Autumn Rotting
by SugarKane Montgomery
Summary: Jane has developed a crush on the new Medical Examiner Maura only to find out that the beautiful doctor is engaged.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Tell me your thoughts friend. I would love to have suggestions, positives, negatives. This is a very safe environment, don't be afraid to share. Because i love input, and I know you love output.**

* * *

Watching her is like watching autumn slowly rot into winter. Beautiful and chilling. The world in transition. Your world in transition. You've seen what she can do with her hands. You've watched her break apart life and rebuild it in her image, quiet and cold and breathtakingly stunning.

You've watched her, for the months she's been a part of the department, you've watched her. Heady and awe-stricken. A girl with a crush.

No that doesn't fit you. Not Jane Rizzoli. Jane Rizzoli is a detective…with a case. And maybe she's some smoking gun disguised as a goddess. You swear you're not a romantic. You swear it even as you find any excuse to visit her, any excuse to peer over her shoulder.

 _When do you think the results will be ready?_

 _What's that bruise on the forehead? Cause of death?_

She greets you indifferently, politely. Pleasantly dismissive. She treats you just as she treats Korsak and Frost and even Crowe. You start to think maybe she sees all of you the same, just muscles with guns. Wise-cracking brutes with hero complexes. You're not a romantic you tell yourself. But when you hear the sound of her heels clicking steadily behind you, you imagine the sweet sway of her hips. You slow down, turn to the side and quickly open the door for her.

You're not a romantic…but you swear your heart stops when a fleeting smile graces her lips as she thanks you.

* * *

The first time you notice her ring is on a Saturday. She is sitting at a booth in Tom's Diner. Even adorned in jeans and sandals, she stands out. The object that does not belong. Her eyes flitting helplessly about as her hands sit still in her lap. Maura Isles, queen of the dead, was no longer in her kingdom. There were no cadavers to redirect attention, no Susie Chang bustling in with results, no Frost keeled over the trashcan. You were going to walk up to her. No, you were going to swagger up to her, Rizzoli charm and all. You were going to be funny and kind and interesting, and she was going to look at you and smile. And all that time, all of the months you've been growing steadily infatuated with this woman would be worth it. You needlessly adjust your t-shirt (you should start dressing better) and saunter over to her, smiling excitedly.

" Dr. Isles, are you lost?"

You mean it to be funny, but she furrows her brow and shakes her head.

"It's just you don't strike me as the type to hang around this side of Boston."

"I don't?"

"No, not really," you smile in as friendly a way as you can muster with your heart beating wildly in your chest, "are you here all by yourself? I could join you if you want."

You're trying to make eye contact with her. You always try to make eye contact with her. It's not like she's never looked at your face before; for god's sake, the two of you work together all the time, but she never really looks at you. Normal people make eye contact during conversations, and they hold it there. She kind of glances around your face; sometimes even above your head. Like right now, you're standing directly in front of her and she's glancing around you. Oddly enough she's smiling. You turn your head a little to see what has captured her attention, the attention you can never seem to hold. You see this tall, beautiful man walking toward you, toward Maura. His eyes smiling brightly as he finally sits in the doctor's booth across from her. The place you'd already declared yours. He looks up at you curiously as if you're some invader, some foreigner in their world. Maybe you are. Maura introduces you to him, Ian Faulkner, her fiancé. And there it is, on her hand, you catch it as she is gesticulating fondling toward the beautiful man in her booth. You see the band of silver and the generous glitter of diamonds atop. She introduces you as a coworker. _Detective Rizzoli_ she smiles _._ You smile politely back, exchanging introductions with Ian before finally making your escape. The sky is huge this morning, and your world is so very small.

* * *

Ian is a shock.

But the engagement…the engagement is an electrocution. She never wears her ring to work, and maybe it's because she's elbow deep in carcasses most of the time, but still, it isn't fair. It isn't fair that he just materialized from thin air. He'd never appeared with her at any department event; he'd never visited her at work. She'd never mentioned him,( given she'd never mentioned any part of her personal life to anyone). Still, it isn't fair. She's been practically holding your mind hostage for 8 months. 8 months of longing, of watching, of hoping. You're an idiot; she doesn't owe you anything, you know that. But a part of you resents her. A part of you is ashamed of this one-sided affection; you wonder if she's noticed your attempts to interact with her. If she laughs at the pathetic lovestruck detective. Ian and she must be so happily amused; they probably laughed as you fled from the diner, tail between your legs.

From that Saturday on, with your self-made hatred deeply planted in your heart, you pulled yourself away from her. You stopped visiting the morgue unnecessarily. You stopped making conversation with her. Sometimes you'd even participate in the mocking of her. And this continue for about a month until Korsak pulled you to the side and asked you what was going on. You'd never been one to disrespect the doctor before; in fact, you'd always been her main defender. You had used some excuse about girls sticking together, but in all honesty, you had just wanted to protect her. After that hostile conversation with Korsak though, you resented Dr. Isles even more. Soon enough you started actively irritating her. You'd question her results, crack jokes about her wardrobe, doubt her qualifications. She'd wave you off, each time more dismissively than the last until finally while leaning over a 23 year-old gunshot victim she turned around and cracked.

"I graduated top of my class from Boston Cambridge University. One of the many universities to which I received full scholarships; Others including John Hopkins, Stanford-"

You, angry that the blonde was basically bragging about how much better she is than you, simply huff, "I don't need your resumé, Dr. Isles." If it were possible for smoke to come out of the blonde's ears, you're certain it would have.

"I have won the Hubbard Award," she continues despite your interruption, "the Milton Helpern Laureate Award, and been nominated for many others in relation to my field. Detective, I am a certified genius. Do _not_ question my competence again."

With that controlled, angry speech, the blonde doctor turns back to the victim, taking slow methodical care. You stand there slack-jawed, and all the detectives within earshot are snickering behind your back.

"Rizzoli just got told," you hear Crowe laugh obnoxiously beside you. She has embarrassed you. Again. If you resented her before, you hate her now.

* * *

The next time you're alone with her it's later that day in an elevator. When she sees you inside, you can see her hesitate before joining you. She dislikes your presence so much she considers walking down a flight of stairs in 4-inch heels. 8 months of pining, of friendliness. Only to make her hate you in 2 months tops. Good work, Detective.

Part of you is hurt by that fact; part of you is proud. You turn to her, the familiar urge to irritate her pulling at your tongue.

"Am I that bad?" you say, poking fun of her hesitation. She doesn't even look your way, as always. She just sighs in response. "Aw, come on Dr. Isles, I'd figure you at least apologize to me after being so rude at the crime scene. Very unprofessional." You snip at the one thing you know will set her off.

"Unprofessional? I have been nothing but professional toward you," she raises her voice slightly before calming herself down, "Honestly what is your vendetta against me? Why must you dislike me so fervently?"

"I don't," You shrug. You're still somewhat nervous around her. This is the most non-work related conversation you've ever had with her. And she's wearing this pencil shirt and this blouse that shows just enough cleavage to hint at what's beneath. You still admire her, but now you do it angrily.

She turns toward you, moving toward the elevator buttons and then quickly pushing the emergency stop. You lurch forward at the sudden stop, knocking into her slightly.

"What the hel-"

"Answer my question. Why do you dislike me so much?"

Your ears are ringing; you're hyper-aware of the fact that it's just you and Dr. Isles, beautiful Dr. Isles, in this small elevator. You're aware of the fact that she's looking at you, really looking at you. Her eyes are gorgeous.

And you hate her for it.

She must know. She must have caught onto your puppy-dog eyes all those months ago. She had to have known. You were sure the whole diner heard your heart break when she introduced you to Ian; you were sure of it.

This elevator is too small, and she's standing like a guard dog in front of the controls. You try to reach around her, hoping the staggering height difference will shrink her into submission, but she stays there. Blocking the emergency stop button. Why is she making this so hard for you?

"You can leave when you answer my question. Why do you constantly harass-"

"Harass?" you say it curiously, still trying to push your hand behind her back. The word sounds so harsh.

"Yes, harass, torment, bully-" she lets out a disgruntled _uumph_ as you finally wedge your hand in between her and the controls finally hitting the emergency stop button. But before you can move away she's pushing back on your hand, trapping you in her personal space. You look down at her, her bright hazel eyes angrily staring into yours. God, she's so adorable with her pout and her burning aversion toward you. You wonder what her mouth would look like moaning your name. It's only taken a couple of minutes and you're back to a lovesick puppy. You need to get away from her before you do something stupid and embarrassing and brave, but you can't stop yourself from drawing closer. She never looks at you, and now she's looking at you. Staring at you.

And then your hands without your permission are sliding to her lower back, kneading the flesh through her pretty red blouse.

"Detective!" her voice is shocked and breathy, and she lets out a sexy little grunt as your pull her to your chest.

You can almost hear the cogs in her brain turning furiously and then you glance down, your nose bumping hers. Hazel eyes widen, staring curiously into yours before her mouth forms a little "O" like she's just had an epiphany. You feel her palms pressing harshly against your chest, but you can't help yourself. All you want is one kiss; one touch of the lips you've been fantasizing about forever. She's so close to you. But just as your lips connect with her, that magically soft, passionate connection, she shoves your chest hard, sending you stumbling to the other side of the elevator. Finally the doors ding open, and you just about run out. You look back once to find her staring after you, fingers to her lips, eyes wide in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I was going to make this chapter longer, but it was going on too long already. This story will hopefully be about 15 chapters. THANKS EVERYONE FOR REVIEWING. I didn't know if I was going to continue until I got all your positive feedback. Thanks guys. This chapter is more set-up than anything**

* * *

You're late for work.

Mostly because you expect a box of your things to be thrown out on the front steps of the Department the moment you arrive. You expect your mother to be standing at the front doors, shaking her head, grimacing at the sight of her own daughter. You expect recordings of yourself pressed against Maura to be playing on every computer monitor. Every cop shaking his head in disbelief and disgust. You expect Dr. Isles to have already spoken to Cavanaugh, to have already destroyed your career and reputation.

So you take your time.

You sleep in an hour later; you shower for thirty minutes instead of ten. You actually finish your bowl of cereal. Milk and all. You can't bring yourself to simply not show up, though. Even with the worst case scenario playing vividly in your head, you can't bring yourself to simply not show. Maybe part of you wants to be punished.

You've thought about her nonstop since yesterday. And not in the way you usually think about her.

She isn't such a mystery now. She isn't some faraway portrait in the museum of your heart, only to be gazed upon with wonder and curiosity. Now you've felt the paint bend beneath your touch; you've been close enough to kiss the canvas. You no longer wonder what her lips feel like pressed against yours.

Now you know.

And for that knowledge, you have sacrificed your career, your reputation, your decency. Any chance of being regarded by Dr. Isles with anything other than abhorrence is gone, and still, you find yourself aching to be around her, aching to apologize.

So when you arrive to BPD and find your desk pens are not scattered on the front steps, your mother is not glaring at you disappointedly from the doorway, the first place you go is down to the morgue.

* * *

She is huddled beside her desk with Susie Chang. The two are engrossed in conversation; most of the words you can't understand, but you figure it has something to do with the 23 year-old gunshot victim from yesterday. When you clear your throat loudly, Susie immediately jumps startled before smiling politely toward you. takes longer to acknowledge your presence, only looking up at you once she's dismissed Susie from the room.

She looks beautiful , as always, but you're too nervous to fully appreciate it. Her stance is confident, her eyes narrow in your direction.

"Detective," She breathes dispassionately, "have you come to beg me not to report you?" The doctor leans against the edge of her desk, crossing her arms. You're surprised at how quickly she's gotten to the point.

"No, I just wanted to apologize about…you know," you mumble bowing your head, unconsciously picking at the scars of your palms. You can feel her watching you; she's probably so satisfied with herself. The great Jane Rizzoli at her total mercy; the doctor is well-aware she could end you if she wanted to. And why wouldn't she? You has been nothing but horrible to her for the past 2 months. "I'm kind of surprised you haven't already reported me…" you add on for no reason at all besides curiosity. She simply tilts her head at you.

"I don't have many friends here Detective." Somehow, she manages to say this like it's a fact rather than a grievance. Still you feel bad for her; even though you already had an inkling she didn't have any close friends in the Department. "They call me Ice Queen here. Ice Queen," she laughs humorlessly, "When I worked in Michigan, you know what they called me?" She doesn't wait for you to guess. "Maura Bore-a."

"Do you know how difficult it is to work with people who not only dislike you but belittle you, Detective…and I know, logically I shouldn't care as much as I do. But everyone here is so well-acquainted with one another. You treat each other as family… I just wish I was a part of that." You're not quite sure what this speech has to do with anything, but when the doctor pauses and sighs, you take that as your moment to respond.

"I'm sorry I kinda picked on you…" It's the best apology you can come up with while still keeping your pride intact. The blonde woman doesn't seem very impressed with your attempt though as she meets your eyes and glares.

"That's just it, Detective. You were the kindest to me. Of all the officers, you were the kindest. And then one day, you just weren't. Why?"

"I-I don't know…" you shrug, uncomfortable now, "Anyways, it doesn't matter. I just wanted to come and say sorry Dr. Isles. Thanks for not reporting me." You're about to turn to leave, trying to escape even though you haven't completely succeeded in expressing your remorse.

"I never said I wasn't reporting you, Jane," she says it, and your heart nearly stops. You turn around quickly to find the blonde looking a bit too self-satisfied. You probably look like a deer right before it gets caught in oncoming traffic. She just used your first name; she never does that. You didn't even think she knew your first name.

"You've harassed me for months before the kiss. I should and could very well have you fired." You feel your pulse quicken at the threat. She looks at you though more curiously than angrily. "I just don't understand though. Why'd you kiss me, Jane?"

At that question, you quickly shut the door to her office, hoping no one overheard her. You look fearfully at the blonde, trying desperately to gauge her thoughts.

"It was an accident." You say lamely, pleading with your eyes for her to drop it. A confused smirk graces her lips before she raises her eyebrows and laughs.

"It didn't feel like an accident."

"What do you want from me?" you sigh. You're tired of this line of questioning. You're certain if she wanted to report you, you'd be reported already. She must want something, or maybe she just likes to see you squirm. Either way, this cat and mouse game is wearing you down

"I want your acceptance," she says simply, before shaking her head and speaking again. "Well not really _your_ acceptance. You infuriate me, but the rest of the department's acceptance would be nice." You furrow your brow at the woman. Is she really asking you to help her make friends?

"I can't make people like you, Dr. Isles." She rolls her eyes at the comment.

"I just need a–what is it called again–" she looks up in thought before tentatively saying "wingmate?"

If you weren't so nervous, you would have laughed. "You mean a wingman?"

"Yes, that."

"I don't think that means exactly what you think it means," you can't help but smirk a little when she waves her hand dismissively.

"I need you to invite me to things, help me make friends with the other officers. Speak of me highly to your coworkers. Dissuade people from insulting me. They all respect you; they'll take your opinion seriously."

"And if I do this, you won't report me…or tell anyone what happened." You sigh in relief. On one hand, you're being blackmailed and that's disconcerting, but on the other hand, you might be able to get out of this unscathed. And helping Maura make friends isn't the worst punishment.

"I won't tell anyone else what happened between us, yes," she subtly corrects your statement, probably hoping it would go unnoticed.

"What do you mean 'anyone _else_ '?" you ask suspiciously.  
"I may have mentioned it to Ian…my fiancé," she adds on the last part, probably thinking you've forgotten about meeting him at the diner.

"I know who he is," you grimace before gritting your teeth. You can see them in your mind, laughing at you. She disregards your interruption.

"I'm very certain though that he will not relay that information to anyone in the Department. Do we have a deal?" She moves away from the edge of her desk, straightening out her dress unnecessarily. You can't help but notice how nicely the dress complements her assets. She walks toward you, hand outstretched. You look down at her palm for a moment before figuring she wants you to shake it.

"We have a deal." You shake her hand, reveling in how soft the skin is compared to yours. Her hazel eyes are looking at you, satisfied before turning slightly humorous. When you turn to leave, her voice stops you in the doorway.

"We will be spending a lot of time together, Detective. Do try not to kiss me."

You don't really see her again until the end of the day while you're walking to your car. She's standing beside your Department issued Charger, rocking back and forth in her high heels. When she sees you walking toward her, her eyes light up excitedly and your heart kind of skips a little.

"Hello Jane," she says walking toward you.

"Hi…" you return, a little confused as to why she's standing in front of your car. "Is there something I can do for you?

"Well, I overheard there would be a celebration tonight at some police bar. The Dirty Robber?" she says unsurely.

"Yeah," you look at her curiously before unlocking the doors to your car and throwing some paper work in the backseat. The murder of the gunshot victim was finally solved. Even though it was a fairly quick case, it had taken a toll on the detectives. David Jetters, only 23, was a textbook case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sanders Delenor, his murderer, was a thief with a long list of assault charges. He'd simply been trying to rob the kid when his gun went off. "An accident of nervous fingers" he had called it.

"So…" the blonde eyed you with forced confidence, "Are you going?"

"Yeah," you replied simply before finally observing the doctor closely. _Oh right…the agreement_. It isn't as if you'd forgotten; you just didn't think it would come into effect so soon. "You want me to take you?" The doctor sighed in relief that you'd understood her.

"Yes that would be nice." She nodded her head happily before opening the door to the passenger side of your car.

"Um, can't you drive yourself there?"

"Well yes but we need to practice how you'll introduce me," she says it as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Practice?" you question, sitting in the driver's seat before cranking up the car. She looks like a nervous child the first day of school.

"Yes, you have to seem as if you enjoy my company, and I, yours. I don't want it to feel as if I've forced you into inviting me."

You scoff a little at the statement. "You kinda are, Dr. Isles." In your peripheral, you can see a hurt look pass across her face before quickly being overtaken by indignance.

"Well I guess we both can be a little forceful at times," she says pointedly, making you squirm, "And refer to me as Maura. It sounds more familiar that way."

"Maura," you say slowly, liking the way her name feels against your tongue.

* * *

The Dirty Robber smells like cheap liquor and pinewood, but it comforts you nonetheless. All the faces are warmly familiar, and the sounds are all so happily vivacious.

You hear Frost's voice thunder over the other noises zipping around the bar.

"Jane is here. Finally!" By the way he's smiling and tripping over barstools to get to you, you guess he's probably already somewhat tipsy. _The lightweight_. He slaps your shoulder playfully before taking note of the blonde standing next to you. "And , what a surprise!" He grins widely before squinting and tilting his head, perplexed. "You came here with Jane?"

The doctor nods nervously.

"Don't you two hate each other?" he says bluntly, gesturing between the both of you.

"Well, hate is a very strong word." Maura responds ambiguously, looking to you for help. You simply roll your eyes.

"She wanted to come, so I invited her. Could you go get me a beer, Frost?" The handsome man shrugs in acceptance of this answer, though not completely satisfied. He'd ask you later.

"Yeah sure, Jane. Dr. Isles, would you like anything?" he asks politely.

"No, that's alright, but please, call me Maura." He grins at this

"Well in that case, call me Barry." She returns his smile before watching as he walks off to fetch your beer. You catch her still smiling proudly after the man is gone, and you smirk to yourself.

"Well look at that, you made a friend." You say teasingly. She simply glares at you in response.

The night kind of meanders on like that. You're chugging down beers and cracking jokes, introducing Maura to other people as it comes naturally. Korsak and Frost already like her. Well Korsak likes her mostly because she gave him a makeshift icepack, and told him the exactly where to put it to help relieve his lower back pain.

"It's just a local anesthetic. The cold slows down nerve impulses," she replied simply after Korsak asserted she must have been an angel. You can tell she's incredibly happy by the wide smile that has firmly planted itself on her lips. You bump her shoulder encouragingly, and she grins back at you.

* * *

Of course though not everyone accepts her so warmly. You notice more than a few officers staring at her and giggling.

 _Holy crap, Queen of the Dead is here!_

 _Who invited the Ice Queen?_

You don't say anything about it because you figure Maura must be happily unaware; her eyes never move from Korsak or Frost as she talks animatedly about microphysics. How that became the topic, you have no clue. Korsak and Frost are politely nodding along, confused grins adorning their faces. You look over to Maura and she's smiling big as she talks and it makes you smile too. And it continues on like that until she starts talking about how microphysics can be applied to dissecting a body. You only stop her when you see Frost about to upchuck all over the table.

"Though Human vivisection has been used as a form of torture, vivisection itself is not completely without merit-"

"Does anyone else want a drink?" you ask around the table, and your colleagues sigh relieved the topic has changed. Maura doesn't quite catch what you've done; she just simply asks for red wine. She hasn't been drinking at all tonight, so you guess she's finally relaxed enough to indulge. You need to talk to her though away from Frost and Korsak; Maybe give her some pointers on conversation etiquette. So when you get up, you gently tug at her arm, and tilt your head toward the bar. Luckily, she picks up on your meaning, and gets up too.

"So you enjoying yourself?" you ask even though you know she is.

"Oh yes, Barry and Vince are so warm and welcoming."  
"Yeah they are," you say, unconsciously grabbing her wrist as your weave through the crowded bar. "You should uh probably stick to non-dissection talk though around Barry. He has a weak stomach about those kinds of things."

Maura looks confused for a bit before raising her eyebrows in realization. She was probably remembering one of the many times he's thrown up in her office garbage can. "I'll keep that in mind."

You two finally arrive at the bar and put in everyone's drink order, but while you're waiting, you see a familiar annoyance walking your way.

"Well hello there, Dr. Isles," you feel her stiffen at the voice. It's no wonder though. Crowe is even worse than you when it comes to teasing Maura. He came up with the name Ice Queen. "I didn't know you joined the mystery gang," he snickers a little.

Maura simply furrows her brow before returning, "I can assure you I am in no gangs." You can't help but smirk a little at her before turning to the offending officer.

"That was a really good one, Crowe. Did you stay up all night practicing it?" you sigh at him nonchalantly. A group of his friends laugh at little at his expense. He glares at you disbelievingly. You assume he'd thought either Frost or Korsak had invited her, not you. Seeing as you're usually right beside him, tormenting her. God, you cringe at the thought. That was you once, a prettier, smarter version of Crowe.

"When did you become friends with the Ice Queen, Rizzoli?" You wave your hand dismissively, not answering him before turning around to grab the drinks that have finally been laid on the bar surface. You hand Maura two, trying to disregard the sad look that has taken up residence upon her face. Only Maura, you and Frost ordered so you still have a free hand to grab the blonde's wrist and start weaving back toward your table. Crowe lets out a teasing "Awww" when he sees this. Before basically yelling over the bar music, "Look, Rizzoli's got a girlfriend."

You turn bright red as you quickly drop Maura's wrist. When the two of you make it back to the table, you see Frost and Korsak glaring angrily at Crowe and his group of friends.

"Don't mind Crowe. He's overcompensating for a small penis," you say loudly to your two friends even though it was meant to be heard by the bullies across the room. You look down at Maura to find the blonde is looking back at you, her hazel eyes wide with gratitude and perhaps a little sadness. You figure maybe it's time to call it a night. If she wasn't aware of the snickering around her before, she certainly must be now. So you make the call asking Maura if she's as tired as you.

"I could sleep," she answers relieved. Both of you bid Korsak and Frost goodbye as you make your way out to your car.

"Do you want me to drive you back to BPD, so you can pick up your car?" She shakes her head, leaning over toward the window.

"Just take me home," the doctor replies, throwing you some upscale address on the rich side of town. You drive in silence for a couple of minutes before finally feeling inclined to cheer her up.

"Korsak and Frost really liked you. I mean a lot. They're gonna be so disappointed if I don't invite you to the next one." You turn you head for a split-second to find her smiling at your comment.

"Really?" she sounds like an elated child, and you love that.

"Yeah, of course."

An easier silence overtakes the car before you turn on the radio.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I am in love with the reviews guys, I really appreciate it, and I love seeing where you guys think this story will go. The horizontal lines in my previous chapters kept going missing as well as some words and I have no idea why. So i'm trying something different with this one and i hope they are still there once i publish this.**

* * *

At first it was just work stuff.

You would invite her to the Dirty Robber so she could rub elbows with your coworkers. You would chat with her at BPD gatherings. You would be friendly at crime scenes, warding off any detectives eager to rush her through her inspections. You would let her deliver test results to your desk, and conversely go down the morgue to verify your inklings. It was a fine sort of relationship you two had developed, and you would be lying if you said you didn't like being able to spend so much more time with Maura. But in the end, it was still only work stuff. And the conversations rarely ventured farther.

Well at least they didn't until Maura called you up at 11 pm 5 weeks after the beginning of the agreement, requesting that you "educate" her "in popular culture". When you'd sleepily asked her why, she'd taken on this kind of sadly resigned voice.

 _"It's hard to communicate when everyone is speaking a different language. Korsak and Frost are nice, but I feel as if they rarely understand me and vice versa."_

 _"Aw Maura, what are you talking about? They understand you." You hear her scoff from the other end. "And even if they didn't, I'd understand you." She pauses at that, and you think you've probably dodged whatever bullet "popular culture education" is. But then she speaks again._

 _"Lessons start tomorrow. " Before you can even respond, the phone line goes dead._

* * *

The next two weeks you are basically planted onto Maura's couch, a never ending stream of movies flashing before you. Half of which Maura should have seen 35 years ago like everyone else. It was such a peculiar experience watching the blonde observe practically a whole childhood worth of film. She was so unfamiliar with the movies you deemed necessities in your youth. For instance, _all_ of the Disney classics. Seriously, she hadn't seen any of them. Each time you'd hold up a DVD case in front of her hoping there'd be some sign of recognition, there never was. She'd simply shrug, blushing at her own ignorance. When you had finally inquired as to why she hadn't seen any of the Disney classics, the blonde just kind of sighed, explaining how her parents had preferred her be more acquainted with French literature than children's films.

The whole situation was like a walk down memory lane. Except instead of quiet nostalgia you were accompanied by an annoyingly critical doctor commenting on every single detail.

 _"If this were meant as some sort of branch-off from Greek mythology, Ariel would be more concerned with sinking the ship than obtaining treasure from it. Of course, in some folklore, mermaids are depicted as more benevolent than malicious-"_

 _"Oh for the love of god Maura-"_

She didn't really like _The Little Mermaid_ …but she did seem satisfied with _The Lion King_ , favoring its distinct parallels to Shakespeare's _Hamlet._

After a long run through movie classics, you started introducing her to television shows. Just the basic cartoons and sitcoms. Things you knew Frost and Korsak would bring up in everyday conversation. When you'd shown her Scooby _-Doo, Where Are You_ for first time, she'd latched to your arm in excitement.

 _"Oh, that's what Crow meant by mystery gang! Well, that's not insulting…"_

It wasn't until 5 weeks into popular culture education that you started to realize _all_ of your free time was spent with Maura. Either you were watching movies with Maura or listening to music with Maura or picking up coffee with Maura. She had even invited you to her yoga class once (though you put your foot down at that, even after she used the puppy dog eyes). You were already infatuated with Maura before all of this had happened. Before the kiss. Before the agreement. And honestly, being around her all the time was doing nothing to discourage those feelings. You'd thought that once you were well-acquainted with the doctor you'd stop seeing her through rose-colored glasses, but all your time with Maura had proven was that she was as wonderfully fascinating as you had originally thought.

Not to mention sexy. God was she sexy.

And beautiful.

And horrible at social cues. You were certain she knew at the very least you were attracted to her; for god's sake this thing had all begun after you tried to shove your tongue down her throat in a stalled elevator car. Still though, during movie nights on her couch, she'd cuddle into your side. During conversations when you'd annoy her, she'd press her fingers into your lips. She'd hug you when she was excited or at least she'd try before you wiggled away. She was _killing_ you.

And the worst thing about it was that there was nothing you could do. Ian wasn't there to divert her attention. She'd told you sometime within the first week of the arrangement that Ian was in Ethiopia doing relief work. You'd inquired as to whether or not he knew about the arrangement to which Maura simply shrugged

Everything in your life at this point was about Maura or work. The blonde had even met your mother who, of course, loved her at first sight. Seriously.

 _"Janie's never had any gal-pals before. I can already tell you're a good influence on her."_

This arrangement was starting to feel less like a deal and more like a relationship which was both heaven and hell for you. On one hand, every time you were near her your heart pounded pleasantly inside your chest, but on the other hand, you were well- aware that she wasn't interested in you. She was engaged to "the love of her life" as she referred to him.

* * *

"Please Jane, be my wingmate."

"It's wingman, Maura. I honestly don't know what you think that word means."

She sighs deeply into the phone, and you imagine her tilting her head at you in annoyance.

"Please Jane…it will be so much fun. Imagine. A few of the most select pieces of art hung all around you from the greatest abstract artists of this millennium. Kandinsky. Rothko. Delaunay-"

"Yeah, I think we have two different definitions of fun," you interrupt, laughing into your cell phone. You hear her huff indignantly.

"I don't even know why I'm giving you the courtesy of a choice. You have to do it; it's part of the deal." You immediately stop laughing. It's not like you had plans or anything, but you really don't want to spend your Saturday in a stuffy art museum.

"I thought the deal was just to help you get friends."

"Well yes…and I need a friend to attend this art show with me. And you are the closest I can get on short notice."

It was always this way between the two of you. You were always on the precipice of admitting that maybe you liked spending time with one another, but of course, it wasn't long before you slipped back into the comfort of hating each other. Or pretending to hate each other.

"Okay fine I'll go…but we need to establish some rules to this agreement." You hear her scoff.

"Rules like what?"

"Like for one, we need a time limit. When exactly do I get out of this?" There's a long silence on the other end before Maura replies vaguely, "When Ian comes home."

"When does Ian come home?"

"Approximately 5 months," she says slowly, hesitantly like you'll immediately disagree with her after hearing how long she expects this to last. You don't really mind 5 months though. What you do mind is that the agreement has anything to do with Ian.

"Why do you want it to stop when Ian comes back?"

"Well I…" she pauses, trying to find the right way to phrase her thoughts, "I won't have as much time when Ian comes back. I assume I'll be doing most of our activities with him."

You listen to her words, trying to process them before it comes to you. Understanding.

"Oh my god, am I some stand-in boyfriend for you?"

"No. I mean…I don't think." The trepidation in her voice verifies your assumption, and as angry as you are that you're just filling in for Ian, you find it sort of flattering that she chose you to spend all her time with. She could have just as easily gotten Frankie to dote on her. When you had introduced the blonde to your brother, the younger Rizzoli had almost tripped over his own tongue. But maybe she wanted someone she could easily control, and you fit that bill more than anyone else.

"You're more of a stand-in best friend," the blonde says once the silence had gone on too long, "Ian was the only person I really spent time with. Of course, he didn't do nearly as many activities with me as you do, but then again, we spent a lot of our time doing one activity in particular-"

"Please tell me you're not telling me what I think you're telling me," you groan into the phone, partly upset and partly aroused by Maura's confession. The blonde quickly cleared her throat.

"Anyways, I suppose this may be a substitute for the platonic relationship I had with Ian. I hadn't really thought about it."

"So he gets all the good stuff, and I get to eat kale on the weekends. Seems like a fair deal," you breathe out sarcastically. The comment is meant to be said more to yourself, but Maura hears it anyway. She never brought up your attraction to her after the first day of the agreement, and you've never even hinted at it before now. It's just always the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you Jane," she whispers out sympathetically, "I really am grateful though, that you've helped me so much."

"It's not the worst punishment…I guess," you say back vaguely. You can't help but smile when she sighs happily from the other end.

* * *

The entire art show Maura is looking around your head, eyes darting everywhere in search of something. What exactly that something is, you have no idea. Well you have no idea until after the art show is over. When both of you are already buckled up in your car.

"Well, that was as interesting as I expected," you say sarcastically, mostly just to fill the silence. Maura is being oddly quiet, and it isn't until you get to a stoplight that you're able to look at her.

And at that point, at some intersection half a block from the art museum, you see Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, head bowed, shaking in your front seat.

"Holy crap! You're not gonna cry on me, are you? It was just a joke," when this does nothing you keep going, placing your hand on Maura's shoulder, "You know I actually kinda liked the one with the uh circles...and stuff … "

You hear Maura giggle a little bit, but it's this wet, gurgling kind of a giggle. And now you're certain she is crying. You pull over onto the side of the road, looking over at the blonde while patting her shoulder.

"Please stop crying."

"I'm trying not to. It's just that my amygdale and my lachrymal gland have a connection that I can't really control," she pushes out between sniffles.

"What's wrong, sweetie? You can tell me." It's weird using a pet name like that; hell, it's still kind of weird for you calling her Maura. But you figure she needs to be babied, so you just do what your mom would do if she saw you crying. You lean over a little stroking her hair while coaxing her to talk to you. This seems to work because she wipes her eyes quickly and looks up at you.

"My mother was supposed to be there tonight…" You furrow your brows in confusion, but she just continues. "That's why I wanted you to go with me so badly. Ian's not here to join me, and I didn't want her to think I was alone."

You nod your head in understanding, even though you're kind of put off by the fact that she only wanted you to come to prove something to her mother. You have to keep reminding yourself that you're just filling-in for Ian, that your Maura's last resort. It's not like the blonde has misled you; in fact, she's been incredibly candid about her intentions. She's already given your friendship an expiration date, and now your only choice is to watch quietly as it sours.

"I'm sorry your mother didn't show Maura." You stroke the blonde's hair again before leaning back to your side of the vehicle. You sigh before cranking up the car. "Do you want to uh… talk about it when we get to your house?" She and you don't really talk about serious things, but you've gathered from the rare time Maura's mentioned her parents that they're a sore subject

"No, not really."

"Well we could go run by a liquor store or something if you wanna…" You say it mostly as a joke, but then Maura is nodding her head in agreement and saying, "Yes, Please." So you spend the rest of your night inebriated on Maura's sofa listening to her explain the stages of decomposition.

* * *

The next morning you awake to Maura curled into your chest. Both of you comfortably cramped onto the small surface of the couch. Her head is under you chin, and she's breathing so calmly you don't want to move for fear of waking her up. You wonder briefly if this is what she does with Ian. If the two of them have ever fallen asleep on this same couch wrapped around each other. You know she must love him a lot. You can tell by the way her eyes light up while talking about him. You can tell by the way she keeps his pictures scattered around her house, planted in all the places they're most likely to be seen. When she snuggles into your chest, you wonder briefly if she'd rather be snuggling into his.

But before you can think to deeply about it, you stop yourself. You remind your heart that she isn't yours. That she will probably never be yours. That the most you can hope for is a friendship, and even that prospect is uncertain.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter was a freaking giant. I have read all the comments and you guys are funny and sweet and honestly i read them over and over again internalizing you thoughts. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you all care enough about this story to comment. I also want to acknowledge the kind PMs. Really though, you guys make my day. I also liked how everyone went from saying Maura should punish Jane to Maura should suffer for making Jane sad Loll. I didn't even think chapter 3 was sad until you guys said so. Maybe my idea of romance is a little sad. And after i took this chapter down the first time I completely redid it. I like it better this way.**

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* * *

Maura and you have fallen into this weird domestic partnership kind of deal.

It started right after the night of the art show, the first night you slept over at her place. The next couple of days she'd invite you over under the guise of "popular culture education" and you'd stay over for hours, watching movies and re-runs. You'd let her sneak in conversations about her day, about Susie, about cases. Sometimes you'd linger a little longer after the movies had stopped, just keeping her company because you knew that's what she really wanted. After a week or two of that, she started inviting you over for dinner. She'd entice you with your favorite dishes . Sometimes throwing in the promise of a cannoli if you pretended not to be interested.

Then soon after that she started stocking your favorite type of beer.

Just a couple of packs that replenished themselves at the end of the week. Even though she'd never outright admitted to only buying them for you, you knew she had. Maura hates beer.

From that, the domestic part bloomed easily. Most nights you'd feel too intoxicated to leave or at least Maura would insist you were too intoxicated to leave. Then she would either pull you back onto the couch beside her or begin prepping the guest room for your overnight stay. Some nights you wondered what it would be like if Maura had no guest room. You wondered if she'd force you onto the pullout couch or if she'd deem it more hospitable to let you climb in bed beside her. You sometimes wondered what she and you would look like curled up together on her mattress. It was a pleasant little image to go to sleep on, but you tried hard not to entertain it in the morning.

After awhile of sleeping over, when the pattern had gotten all too familiar, you just dropped the excuse of intoxication all together. Maura hadn't seemed to mind though. She just stayed snuggled into your side, head tucked into your neck until one of you admitted to being tired first.

And then like a child outgrowing her security blanket, she'd untangle herself from you. Yawn a goodnight. And resign to her bedroom. Alone.

* * *

In the morning, she was always up and dressed before you. Always…to a point where it became unnatural. One time you'd woken up 2 hours earlier in an attempt to catch the blonde looking even slightly imperfect. You would've given anything for a glimpse of bed hair atop her head or sleep dust in the corners of her eyes. But never. Not even once. That day in particular, you'd woken up early only to find Maura wide awake, stretching after a morning jog.

Most times though you'd tiredly amble into the living room only to discover the blonde curled up on the couch, enthralled in some scientific journal. And sometimes, if you had slept in late enough, you'd awake to find a plate of egg whites and bacon sitting on the countertop for you.

 _"Good morning, Detective."_

 _"Good morning, Maur."_

* * *

Nighttime Maura was a little different than morning time Maura. A little different but no less interesting. Where morning Maura was oddly alert and chipper, nighttime Maura was calmingly open and affectionate. It was only really in the evenings that you learned things about Maura. Serious things. It was really the only time she'd really talk about her childhood or her parents. About how for her high school graduation they'd sent a professional photographer in place of themselves. About how her mother had made her appreciate art, and her father had made her fall in love with science. She told you about the sacredness of the first Thursdays of every month, about how they were the only days both of her parents would be home at the same time. She explained that those nights were the only nights all three of them would eat dinner together, "like a real family." Arthur would sit at one end, Constance at the other. And Maura, little overjoyed Maura, would sit somewhere in between.

 _"In retrospect, those dinners were probably incredibly insignificant to everyone except me," she'd kind of smiled sadly at this before looking at you, "I was a very lonely child Jane."_

You hadn't said anything when she told you this. But part of you had secretly wondered if that childhood loneliness had ever fully gone away. Maybe it was still inside of her, just repurposing itself. Maybe it was the same loneliness that made her blackmail you into friendship. Maybe it was that same loneliness that made her wait for a man who had flown halfway across the world 3 weeks after proposing. Maybe it was the same.

And yeah, she had told you about Ian too.

About how she'd met him while doing relief work in Africa. About how he was the first person to find her little factoids interesting and even at times amusing. About how he was the only person who'd shown full support and admiration for her career choice. About how some days, when they'd have rare little moments of freetime, he would hold her hand and walk with her through the run-down markets of Angola.

She would always tell you in a wistful sort of tone about how much he loved her and she him.

* * *

The increasing amount of time you spent with Maura didn't go unnoticed. Whenever doctor would deliver coffee and lunch to your desk, Korsak and Frost would groan jealously, "Why do you get all the special treatment?" Sometimes Crowe would refer to Maura as your girlfriend and you as hers. But you'd easily avoided the topic by accusing Crowe of being jealous. Frankie started inquiring as to why you were never home, but you just shrugged in response, saying Maura's house was more comfortable. He had looked at you suspiciously, but you'd easily waved him away.

Your mother wasn't as easily deterred. When you'd hold the Division One Café door open for Maura, she'd cock her head in question. When you'd order two beverages in the afternoon, one black coffee, the other herbal tea, she'd bombard you with questions.

 _You sure are spending a lot of time with Dr. Isles…_

 _What's going on between you two, Jane?_

And yes, to some this was normal overbearing mom behavior, but unlike some, you knew your mother well. You could sense the undertone of fear. It was the same fear you saw burning in her eyes 23 years ago. The day she'd found you cuddled up with the next door neighbor's niece. She'd kicked the girl out, screaming, ranting. Crying.

She'd gripped you face hard, fearfully.

"Jane what you were doing…it's wrong."

With those words she had hugged you into her chest, kissing your forehead as her tears splattered on your cheek.

Or maybe those were your tears. You can't remember now.

It doesn't really matter though because she didn't say anything to your father when he came home. And the next day she still woke you up at 5 AM like she always did, pushed a plate of bunny-shaped pancakes into your hands, and told you to hurry up and eat before you missed the bus. She and you had never really talked about that day or about that girl. But you'd silently decided never to act on those feelings again.

And you hadn't…until you were trapped inside an elevator with a certain blonde.

* * *

You were probably a month into your domestic…thing with Maura when Casey came back.

You had pulled up to your apartment, ready pick up some clothes for the next couple of weeks when you spotted him. Casey Jones in all his glory, sitting humbly on your doorstep. You wondered concernedly how long he'd been waiting there. You hadn't been home in days. When he saw you climbing out of your car, he smiled widely, brightly, like he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

"Jane," he said happily, "I'm back."

You almost sprinted into his arms as he spreads them out for you. You had missed him like crazy. Of course the two of you had talked every now and then via Skype, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying at talking to him face to face. He used to be your best friend, your confidant. Part of you had always been somewhat upset with him for agreeing to go to Iraq. Yes, he was being brave and selfless, but younger you felt so abandoned after he was deployed. This was all before you'd really come into your own as a police officer, and long before you'd met Korsak or Frost. After he left, you didn't have really anybody outside of your family to talk to. Being reunited with him now was like having a long forgotten wish granted. He was going to be back for a couple of months he'd explained to you excitedly. You could tell from the glow in his eyes that he was still as in love with you as the day he was deployed. He wanted to pick back up where he left off, and you, so enchanted by his adoration for you, could not bear to tell him no.

When you had finally gotten away from Casey long enough, you called Maura and explained to her the circumstances. She had planned a movie night, but after you talked to her, she'd easily let you out of it.

 _"I completely understand. Catch up with your friend. We'll schedule one another night."_

That night you'd spent talking endlessly with Casey on your sofa. He told you about the friends he'd made overseas. He explained how dry the air was in Iraq. How most nights he'd wake up with the feeling of sandpaper in his mouth. He talked about the moving, about how hard it was being constantly in motion. It made him miss the days when you and he would settle in his backyard and just lie there for hours. He missed being still.

He talked a little bit about the warfare, but you quickly changed the subject when you saw a tiny shadow settle over his face. You talked about yourself a little bit. You talked about Tommy and how he'd gotten himself arrested again. You talked about your dad and how he'd run off with some girl half his age. You talked about Maura and how the two of you had grown close over the past year. You didn't mention all the buildup to the friendship because you didn't want Casey to ever know about that side of you.

Then after a while, when both of you had grown tired of talking, he had leaned over into your space, wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed you. It had felt so warm and familiar, and when he pulled back, you could see his eyes light up with elation. He really did love you.

* * *

Cancellations with Maura became a frequent occurrence with Casey around. He was only going to be there for 2 months and he was trying to fit in as much time with you as possible. He'd text you every morning; he'd drop flowers off at your desk. He'd beg you to hang out with him in the evenings. And every time you saw him anxiously awaiting at your doorstep you couldn't turn him down. A month had already passed and he was practically glued to your hip. And having Casey glued to your hip left no room for you to be glued to Maura. After the two of you made it official that you were dating, you basically reverted back to spending most of your nights at apartment. Because Casey wanted to spend most of his nights there… with you. Maura hadn't complained at first. It seemed reasonable that you'd want to hang out with your new "companion" as she called him. You'd told her that he was your boyfriend now, but she'd only nodded and continued referring to him as your "companion." After awhile though, you could tell the blonde was getting irritated by his constant presence. Sometimes when you'd show up to the Dirty Robber with Casey close on your tail, she'd blatantly roll her eyes in your direction. And in other times, when you'd bring him up in conversation, she'd just completely stop talking to you.

And a couple of weeks ago, when you'd invited the two out to dinner with you, they had basically spent an hour glaring at each other over table menus. You had questioned Casey about why he disliked Maura, and he'd said she was high maintenance and arrogant. And when you questioned Maura about why she disliked Casey, she'd simply compared him a leech and shrugged. You decided to keep the two separate after that. Dividing your time in a way that Casey usually came out with a bigger slice. But tonight, you had finally wiggled out from his insistant grasp and made time to hang out with Maura in the afternoon. The afternoon had quickly turned into the evening and you'd decided to take up her offer for dinner.

* * *

"All I'm saying is that the guy acts like he's got a rulebook stuck up his," you hesitate when you see Maura's disproving look, "colon…?" You finish lamely, but she nods in acceptance before continuing to chop up the vegetables she's prepping for dinner.

"Jane I'm sure he's only trying to be cautious," she responds to you, smiling a little as you huff and roll your eyes. "Have you picked a movie to watch yet? Dinner is going to be ready in a couple of minutes."

"I will, I will. I'm just kinda enjoying watching your knife skills. Do they teach you that in medical school?" Maura laughs softly at the comment.

"They were more concerned with teaching me how to cut into bodies than vegetables." You smirk in return, stealing a sliced carrot from her chopping board before fleeing to the couch before she can reprimand you.

As you're lounging on the sofa, trying to find a watchable action flick, you get a text message from Casey asking you to please come see a movie with him tonight. He's super excited for some new James Bond-esque film that came out today. You already told him you were hanging out with Maura, but he really wants to see you tonight.

 _"I miss you, Janie 3_ "

You feel kind of bad after reading the text. He is only going to be here another month before he is deployed again. The least you could do was give him the time he desired. Sighing, you place the remote down on the couch cushion, knowing Maura will be slightly agitated with you when she finds out.

"Can we rain check dinner tonight? Casey really wants to go see that new spy movie," you smile apologetically toward the doctor, but it doesn't get acknowledged right away.

There's silence for a moment and then Maura says, "Just tell Casey you're unavailable because you're having dinner with me." The reply kind of takes you off-guard. Yeah your comment was phrased as a question, but you weren't asking for her permission. You had already decided to go out with Casey.

"Orrr," you draw the word out in a joking fashion, walking toward the counter, "I could tell _you_ I'm unavailable because I'm going to see a movie with Casey tonight. I swear Maura, I'll make it up to you tomorrow." Maura just kind of snorts at this.

"You don't have to make it up to me because we're going to have dinner tonight. Unless you'd like to renegotiate our agreement. " Her voice suddenly gets low, like she's threatening you, but you're not completely certain she is because she doesn't even glare at you the way she usually does when she's upset. She just continues looking down at the vegetables she's prepping for dinner. "Tell Casey you can't go."

You let out an incredulous chuckle, furrowing your brow at the blonde. "You can't be serious…"

"I can assure you I am." She returns, placing another carrot on her chopping board. You stare at her for a second in silence, still unsure if this is really happening. Is she really prohibiting you from going out with Casey? At that very moment, your phone decides to come alive. And you know it's Casey calling because sometime in the first week you two started dating, he changed your ringtone for him to recording of him badly singing, "Answer the phone, Janie. Answer the phone. Casey's calling." The first time you'd heard it, you'd burst out laughing in surprise. Maura wasn't as amused as you though; you remember her rolling her eyes as you answered the call.

 _"We're busy, Jane. Tell him to call back later."_

You were only watching a movie; it's not like you couldn't pause it. Maura was just trying to control you.

You let the ringing die out easily this time; you'll call him back after you and Maura have a little talk.

"What's your problem tonight, Maur?" your voice comes out pretty agitated mostly because she basically just threatened to report you if you see Casey. Of course, she's used the agreement as leverage before but never seriously. You always knew you had room to say no to her requests if you wanted to. But now, the way she's talking to you, it makes the threat of losing your career and reputation all the more real. Maura wouldn't do that to you…would she?

She won't even give you the courtesy of answering your question; she just looks up at you and tilts her head in a resolute sort of fashion. Like there's no question in her mind you will obey her order.

You scoff in disbelief. That's what she's given you isn't it…an order. You wonder fleetingly if she sees you as more of a pet than a companion. Someone to be trained. Someone to be commanded.

And now that you think about it, that's pretty much what she did for the months of your relationship before Casey. Trained and commanded you.

And to her credit, it wasn't like you were exactly objecting to her rule.

When Maura didn't like your cursing, you stopped cursing.

When Maura wanted to watch a documentary instead of the Red Sox game, you watched a documentary instead of the Red Sox game.

And the times when Maura said she was cold, when she shivered up against you on movie nights or lazy mornings, you'd let her use your body as a human blanket.

Even when the proximity was dizzying. Even when the closeness made your heart hurt.

You let her.

Because she's Maura.

And part of you always wants to please her. Part of you always wants to make her happy. But tonight, those parts of you are getting drowned out by all the other parts of you that are so fumingly upset with her

"I'm not going to call off my date with Casey, Maura. I can't believe you would even ask me to do that," you say partially angry and partially shocked. You see her tightly clench her jaw before looking at you coldly.

"I wasn't asking. You stay here or you break the agreement."

At this blatant threat, you almost lose it, slamming your fist into the counter, making her eyes widen at you in shock.

"This," you growl out, gesturing between Maura and yourself, "is not part of the deal. I didn't agree to be your slave, Maura." Her cool façade finally cracks as she drops the knife against the cutting board, narrowing her eyes into a heated glare.

"Why do you even pretend to be interested in him? What do you get out of it?" The question sounds more like an accusation than anything which confuses you.

"What are you talking about? I am interested in him."

"Really?" she asks condescendingly, "Are you certain?" And slowly you're starting to understand what she's implying. But you're somewhat in denial that she would actually go there.

"Yes _really_. What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I'm sure you can figure it out, Detective," she snips lowly.

"Weren't you the one who told me never to guess." At this she straightens herself up from the counter and raises her eyebrows challengingly. You mimic her expression. You can't back down; you're too far in. She waits a couple of moments, and you feel yourself grow emboldened by her silence. You're angry that she would even skim the surface of that topic. You huff loudly at her, tauntingly before saying, "I'll text you tomorrow if Casey and I aren't busy." You turn around, ready to look for your keys before you hear Maura's angry voice behind you.

"Don't you remember the first time you and I were alone together?" You feel some big collapse in your gut as you turn around quickly to face her. Her face is so angrily determined, but still she waits before speaking, as if expecting you to stop her. But you don't. You don't believe she'd really go there. You don't believe she has the gall.

But then she opens her mouth again, and her eyes don't leave yours.

"Don't you remember pushing me up against the wall?" You swear your heart stops. "Don't you remember trying to shove your tongue into my mouth?"

And there it is. The elephant in the room. The elephant that's always in the room when you two are together. Addressed. Ridiculed. And skinned alive.

When you dropped the bait, you didn't honestly expect her to take it. The kiss was just something you'd both silently agreed never to talk about. And now that it is out there, you're hit with this strange urge to clasp your hand against her mouth. To silence her.

But what good would it do now. The words have already been said.

You break eye contact immediately and mutter something about it being "an accident."

"An accident?" She scoffs, gripping the edge of the counter. She's taken on this offended voice. The same kind of voice you use when a suspect tries to lie to you. "You know it's perfectly normal to not be heterosexual."

Your eyes widen in what can only be described as panic. "I was just trying to shut you up, Maura. Don't get ahead of yourself."

She rolls her eyes, and you feel like you're about to throw up all over the freshly cut carrots. You have to get out of here. For a second you think she'll let you go peacefully, but as soon as she hears the jingle of your keys in your hand, she rounds the corner of the counter.

"Why are you leaving? It was an accident, right?" you can hear her accusing voice ringing behind you. You're lifting up her decorative couch pillows frantically trying to find your jacket. "You only did it to shut me up, right Jane?" She repeats your words to you mockingly. You can hear her voice grow closer, but you still haven't found your jacket. When you finally feel her presence behind you, you decide to cut your losses and simply buy a new one. But as soon as you turn around she's right up against you. Invading your personal space. The whole thing is oddly reminiscent of that night in the elevator.

"You only did it to shut me up right?" She repeats her voice breathily angry. She's looking up at you, staring into your eyes heatedly, and you can feel her breasts gently bumping against yours. For a second you can't help yourself but glance down at her lips. It doesn't go unnoticed. She presses her palm into your chest, right above your heart. You bet she can feel how quickly it's pounding. You wonder if that satisfies her.

But she doesn't say anything about it. She just tilts her head knowingly.

You push her hand away, gritting you teeth in embarrassment.

"You're unbelievable," you say, quickly making your way around the blonde and out of the door. You hear her calling after you, but you don't even spare her a glance. Tonight was embarrassing and exposing and painful. And for some reason as you're driving in your car back toward your apartment, you feel like that 16 year-old girl again, crying against your mother's chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: There was a crapload more to this chapter. Like 2000 words more. But i feel like you guys aren't ready for those 2000 words yet. So i'm just gonna save it for later. Btw the reaction to chapter 4 was insane. Lmao you guys are funny. I think i'm going to try to build more on their friendship or something. Casey's not going away yet, but Ian might be popping up soon. Remember before you guys think of Maura as the bad guy, this story is told completely from Jane's prospective.**

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* * *

The first time she called you it was five days after the argument.

Casey was stretched out under the covers beside you, his arm draped over your back. He was sleeping. Peacefully. So unaware of his girlfriend's suffering. Casey wasn't a very observant man. He had never been, and part of you thinks that's why your relationship with him worked so well. He let things go; he let problems die out as quickly as they arose, never questioning why they appeared in the first place. When you stopped hanging out with Maura, you'd naively wondered if he'd notice her absence. If maybe he'd find it odd that his time with you had doubled, that there was no other person grappling with him for your attention. Because for you, Maura's absence was inescapable. You had no choice but to notice. There were no more trips to the morgue, no more delivered coffees to your desk. For five days, there had been radio silence between the two of you. For the first three nights, it was easy. You were so angry with Maura, so embarrassed of what happened, her absence in your life was relieving. Then halfway through the fourth day, Frost had told you this stupid science pun he'd read on the internet. And you'd thought to yourself, "Maura would love this." And then you'd thought about how you wished you could just text it to her. Or go down to the morgue and tell her in person. Or just go down to the morgue and see her. Because you hadn't seen her in almost a week, and that's a long time to go without seeing someone you've basically been glued to for months.

And then at that point, you pretty much forgot about the stupid science pun. All you could think about was the fact that you missed Maura. You really missed her. You missed her so much that it made your chest hurt just thinking about her. You missed her smile. You missed her inability to understand sarcasm. You missed the way she got excited when Frost would mention one of the shows you taught her about. You missed her so much that it in some ways canceled out how angry you were at her.

But you didn't want to be the first one to talk. You didn't want her to earn your forgiveness so easily. Because what she did was not even remotely okay. So you held out.

You let the silence linger.

And then five days after the argument. At 2 in the morning when Casey was sleeping. She called you.

You thought about ignoring it at first, but you couldn't bring yourself to. So you hit the answer button and simply resigned yourself to remaining silent.

"Jane," you heard her whisper unsurely across the line. You didn't say anything; you just exhaled at the sound of her voice. You had missed it. You let her whisper your name a couple more times, savoring the way slid off her tongue, before finally hanging up the phone and going to sleep.

The next day you walked into work to find a cup of coffee on your desk.

* * *

Every night after that she'd call

The first few times you'd listen silently, your ear resting against the speaker of the phone, as she whispered your name _Jane Jane Jane_ sadly from the other side. She would sound so decidedly remorseful that you couldn't bear to listen for too long.

After the first times, she started slipping in apologies alongside your name _Jane, I'm sorry Jane, Please._ Sometimes she'd beg you to talk, and other times she'd beg you to listen. Then sometimes she'd just sit on the phone until you hung up.

The last few times, when the separation was nearing 2 weeks, she started asking you to come to her house. She started talking about how she wanted to fix things, and how sorry she was for her behavior. And how she was just jealous and upset that Casey stole all of your time. When you heard that part, it almost made you laugh.

Then she just stopped. Out of the blue. And after you'd figured out she wasn't going to call anymore, you felt this hard rush of disappointment. And sadness.

But if Maura was going to give up after 2 weeks, then so be it. It was better this way, you'd told yourself. But then the weekend had arrived, and you were home alone due to Casey visiting family out of town. And while you were curled up in bed, flipping through TV channels, there was a knock on the door. Almost as if some higher power had heard your unwished wishes, there standing in your doorway was Maura Isles.

 _"We need to talk."_

* * *

"I can't be friends with someone who threatens to destroy my life every time something doesn't go her way." The doctor flinches at your honesty. She's been trying for an hour to explain to you how sorry she is, but it's just not clicking for you. It's not that you don't believe she's sorry for what she did. It's just that you're not exactly certain she'd never do it again. If there was anything you learned from that night, it was that Maura was manipulative.

She was manipulative and possessive and afraid.

And because of that, she was unable to handle the unreasonable amount of power she had over your future. She could end you if she wanted to. She could take your job, your family, your reputation. You know that and she knows that, and she's been perfectly satisfied with that dynamic because unlike with the other people in her life, she never has to worry about you hurting her. She never has to worry that you'll leave. Unlike with her parents, unlike with Ian. With you, she's not the one waiting.

But you're tired of it. This infatuation that you have for Maura has been ruining your life. It's made you weak and over-accommodating. It's turned you into someone who allows herself to be humiliated. Who allows herself to be taken advantage of.

As hard as it is for you to face, you allowed yourself to be used by Maura. Somewhat out of fear. But mostly because being used by Maura didn't seem so bad when this started.

You wanted to be near her.

No…you _ached_ to be near her. And then, in what felt like a heavenly gift, you were. You were near her all the time. You were near her for movie nights. You were near her for dinners. You were near her in happiness. You were near her in sadness. You were always near her.

And because deep down that closeness was all you really wanted, you didn't question it. You didn't question why Maura kept you bound to her couch, her arms like chains around your waist. You didn't question why she'd started inviting you over; Or why packs of Peroni beer started popping up in her fridge. You didn't question why she clung to you even as she described her love for Ian.

Even as she made it clear he was the only one who owned her affection.

You hadn't questioned it because you knew you wouldn't like the answer.

You knew Maura was lonely. You knew Maura had come to depend on you to fill some void Ian had left there. Or maybe her parents had left it there and Ian had only made it deeper.

Either way, it wasn't for the right reasons. And her desire to be your friend was never going to be for the right reasons with the 'agreement' in place. A friendship with her was never going to feel real with the shadow of that lie looming over it.

"Maura, if you want an honest friendship with me, end the agreement. Give me a choice."

You say it as simply as you can, watching as her eyes fall down away from yours. She doesn't agree right away, which would upset you if you didn't understand the weight of your ultimatum. But you do. And you know if she lets you out of the agreement she's giving you the option to walk away from her. To take away all the things she's gained from this deal. Dirty Robber Friday nights with Korsak and Frost. Sunday dinner with the Rizzolis (she'd only joined you twice but she'd loved it each time. It felt like the family dinner she'd always dreamt of). All the noise and fun and brightness you'd brought into her life simply by spending time with her…if she let you get out of this agreement, there was a chance she'd never have that again.

But if she and you are really going to be genuine friends, she's going to have to trust you to stay.

"Yes or no," you say after the silence has stretched too long.

She looks up at you for a moment before letting her shoulder drop heavily. "Okay..."

"Okay what?"

"The agreement is done... You're free."

She looks sad and almost timid, like she's certain you'll kick her out as soon as she says the words. But you don't. And maybe that's a bad choice because you've seen what she's capable of. You've seen Maura's bad side. But you also just saw Maura prove that she genuinely cares for you. She is willing to surrender her upperhand in order to regain your trust, and even though a more reasonable part of you is screaming cut your losses and run. Another part of you is just so happy to be near her again. So instead of kicking her out you just smile at her because now the two of you can build an honest friendship. When she sees your smile, she sighs a little bit, relieved. Then she lays her coat neatly on the arm of your hand-me-down living room couch before wordlessly wrapping her arms around your shoulder and hugging you tightly. The sudden contact is disconcerting at first. You haven't touched her in two weeks and now you're engulfed in her. You know she's just expressing how happy she is that you've accepted her, but the hugging reminds you of something else that needs to be discussed.

"Maur," you say, though your words get a little muffled by her hair. She doesn't stop hugging you, just holds you closer, head under your chin. "Maura," you try again. This time she pulls her head back far enough to look into your eyes.

"There's something else I'm going to need if you and I are really going to be friends." She tilts her head curiously, and you try to ignore the fact that her breaths are hitting gently against your chin. "We need boundaries…"

She just looks at you with confusion. And you imagine the cogs in her mind spinning over what "boundaries" could possibly entail. After a minute though, she seems put-off by the prospects she's imagined. "Why do we need boundaries?"

You can't help but find it cute and frustrating how completely oblivious she is to what is and isn't appropriate friendship behavior. You start to realize that maybe Maura has only been friends with people she's dated.

Ian.

That guy Garrett she'd been courted by in college.

Jack Keystone and that lengthy fling she'd had with him before going to Angola.

Those relationships were the closest things she'd had to a real friendship before you. And you think maybe she honestly doesn't know how to separate romantic gestures from platonic ones. Before the big argument, you'd never really thought of Maura's behavior as being a problem. You were just kind of happy with any affection you could get. But now…now, after Maura had basically laid you bare, you feel the need to create distance. If you were really going to go back to the Jane you were before you started letting these feelings overtake you, you were going to need Maura to ease up on the touching. Of course, you can't go completely cold turkey, but you definitely needed to cut back on the dosage.

"It's just what I need right now, Maura. I need less of this," you gesture at the small space between her and yourself.

She hesitates for a moment before nodding a little and backing away. She looks around the apartment, and you wonder what exactly she's looking for before finally she raises her eyebrows in question.

"Where's Casey?"

"He's in Worcester visiting his Aunt. She made him promise to see her before he gets deployed again."

She nods before looking around a second time; this time more appraisingly. She's never been inside your apartment before. Which is odd now that you think about how much time you two have spent together.

"What do you want to do now," you ask but she only shrugs in return. After a moment of thinking you start talking again.

"I had planned on forcing Casey to watch this Syfy movie with me, but he had to go visit his Aunt…so I guess…you know, since you're here -"

"I'll watch it with you," she interrupts your rambling helpfully.

You smile her way before turning toward the kitchen, ready to retrieve some movie snacks.

"Even though the scientific inaccuracies found in most Syfy films are appalling." She adds on unnecessarily and even though you roll your eyes at her critique. Even though you know she will spend half of the movie blabbering about the implausible nature of the plot. You're kind of happy that she's here.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: What's happening? Tell me about your day, friends. Oh btw thanks for the comments. Most of you liked the make up. Which is really soul-warming.**

* * *

"Hm," you hum thoughtfully before jutting your finger toward some older gentleman jogging past the bench where Maura and you are residing, "What about him?"

Maura looks after him pensively for a moment.

"Well, from the odd lateral curvature in the thoracic region of the spine and the slight difference in his shoulder heights, I'd say he has mild case of Idiopathic scoliosis."

You look at her impressed, before nodding and pointing at another man in the park. He is sitting on a bench two trees down from yours, feeding the pigeons that have accumulated around his feet.

"Seborrheic Keratosis," she says almost immediately upon looking at the man. You humph a little at her speed and certainty.

"Does he really have that or are you just making stuff up?" you question the blonde, half teasingly, half skeptically. She simply rolls her eyes as if offended.

"I can't fabricate, Jane. It's against my nature," she says it as if this is something you should already know.

"So you're saying you never lie," you eye her again with disbelief.

"No, I'm saying I _can't_ lie, not without physical repercussions at least. Have I ever attempted to lie? Yes."

You take a minute to think over what she has just revealed to you before finding a question to settle on.

"So what happens when you lie?"

She looks at you distrustfully for a moment. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because we're friends, and I should know things about you," you answer back quickly.

It's been approximately a week since the termination of the 'agreement', and Maura has been opening up to you a lot more lately. You can tell she's genuinely making an effort to let you in. But every once in a while, in times like this, you have to remind her that she can trust you, that you're truly her friend.

"I experience urticarias and Vasovagal syncope," she says quickly, and you don't realize until you look over and see her reddened cheeks that she's embarrassed. You place your hand on her shoulder, patting it affectionately.

"I'm sorry that you get urtheras and vasogels when you lie… even though I have no clue what either of those are."

She looks at you smiling before letting out a little laugh, and you feel a calming warmness settle in your bones. "Urticaries and Vasovagal syncope," Maura corrects your horrible pronunciation pointedly, "means I experience hives and sometimes faint if I'm dishonest."

You nod understandingly before getting a mischievous thought in your head.

"So I could ask you anything, and you would have to tell me the truth." She eyes you suspiciously.

"If I were to answer, I would be medically inclined to tell you the truth, yes."

"Do you like this shirt I'm wearing?" You gesture toward your bright green Dri-fit shirt. She tilts her head a little, thinking.

"I like it on you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, well," suddenly her cheeks turn embarrassingly red before she shakes her head and takes a sip out of her water bottle, "you have an admittedly appealing physique, Jane. And I suppose, the shirt's form-fitting nature doesn't…subtract from it–even though its color is rather atrocious."  
You smirk smugly considering her words.

"So you're saying you think my body is hot."

Maura blushes furiously before dismissively rolling her eyes at you. She stands up, not even bothering to answer your question, as she stretches her arms beside the bench... You notice how her own Dri-fit shirt lifts a little, showing off the skin of her stomach.

"I think we should finish jogging. We have to be at work in an hour." With that said, she starts running along the path, not even waiting for your reply.

* * *

You've started spending more time with Maura recently. Of course, Casey still gets the majority of your time, but when you're with the blonde, you try to only be with her. That means you have finally discouraged Casey from calling repeatedly when he knows you're with Maura. Or showing up at your job during lunch when he knows the doctor and you have plans. He fought you on those points, exasperated that Maura had reserved time with you at all.

 _"She's your coworker. I'm your boyfriend."_

You tried to explain that Maura was pretty much the best friend you'd ever had, but Casey wasn't hearing it. He just wanted to be with you all the time. And in a way it was sweet, but in a more obvious way, it was suffocating. You felt like you had no room to breathe sometimes when he was around. And yes, he was your best friend for a long time, and you still feel somewhat in debt to him especially seeing as he would be getting deployed soon. But being with him 24/7 was insane. You need space. But every time you try to put obtain some, he latches onto you like a lovesick leech, pulling you into submission. You love Casey; you really do. And you enjoy spending time with him. But no one can have one thing all the time…even if it's good; eventually it just makes you sick.

* * *

Maura is stretched out on her living room couch, legs resting over yours. Her head is lazily thrown back against the arm of the couch; her eyes peacefully closed. She looks beautiful right now, overwhelmingly so. And though you keep telling your mind to disregard it, you can't help but appreciate it.

The room is comfortably silent except for the forgotten movie playing in the background. Work had taken a toll on both of you. There had been a string of murders happening in the business district of Boston, and it seemed the higher the body count the lower the office morale. Maura had been taking it especially hard after three autopsies had produced no viable evidence.

"Hey," you say gently, pulling her from her probably worried silence, "you did good work today." She simply casts you a disbelieving smile.

"Not good enough."

You gently squeeze the leg that's thrown across your lap, trying to hold her attention.

"Maur, we both know this guy is a professional. He knows how to kill and not leave evidence. But sooner or later he'll slip-up and you'll catch him." The blonde just sighs in response before calling you sweet.

"I'm not being sweet, Maur; I'm being honest," you try to will her into believing you, "What happened to the 'I've won the Hubbard Award and I'm a genius' doctor I used to know."

At that she shoots you a little smirk. "It only takes 150 IQ points to be a genius."

You laugh before cocking an eyebrow disbelievingly. "So what, you're a dumb genius?"

Maura smiles widely, a loud laugh spilling from her mouth. She looks like she's about to say something back, but at that very moment your phone begins to ring.

 _"Answer the phone, Janie. Answer the phone. Casey's calling."_

You feel Maura tense automatically, and you kind of want to curse Casey for his horrible timing. You already told him that you were spending time with Maura tonight. You rise a little from the couch, pulling your phone from your back pocket. You hear the blonde sigh in irritation beside you, like she's certain you're going to answer and then give her some excuse why you have to go. Like you used to do before the argument. But this time, you simply hit silent and place your phone on the end table beside her couch.

"I'm sorry about him," you grumble kind of annoyed that he called even when you told him not to, "he just really hates being in the apartment without me."

At this, Maura groans abruptly before pulling her legs from across your lap and sitting up straight.

"I just–It's just not normal how attached he is to you. He wants you to be with him all the time, every day, every second-"

"He just wants to spend as much time with me as he can before he gets deployed," you interrupt her, and she groans again.

"You shouldn't have to be with someone all the time, Jane. It's as if he's attached to you." You eye Maura a little angrily, astonished by her hypocrisy.

"You mean exactly how our relationship was."

The blonde rolls her eyes at your assessment before muttering something about that being "a different circumstance."

But you can tell deep down knows it wasn't all that different. Before Casey came into the picture, your relationship with Maura was a little less if not just as obsessive. Of course, it differed a little from what you have with Casey. Maura was a less aggressive about her desire to spend time with you. Instead of begging you to come over, she would offhandedly mention her interest in having a movie night. Instead of enveloping you in her arms like Casey often did, the doctor would simply shiver and snuggle into you. It was your choice to allow her, and it was your choice to hold her in return. With Casey there is never really a choice.

"Hey," you whisper sweetly, getting her attention, "let's not let that ruin the night. I just want to relax."

The doctor nods agreeably.

* * *

The first time you think Maura might actually be attracted to you, it's several nights later

Casey is out having drinks with some old military buddies, and so you decided to invite Maura over to hangout.

It's almost 11 PM, and you're lying in bed with her. Mostly because the Wii you use to watch Netflix is already plugged up to your bedroom TV. But also a little because Maura thinks your couch feels like sandstones wrapped in polyester.

Of course, you've lain in bed with Maura before. But it has always her bed. Her huge king-sized bed that you could spread your legs all the way out on and still never hit both ends. Your bed is different from her bed. It doesn't have the luxury of space. It forces you to be closer to her. Which would've been fine a couple of months ago. Maura would have cuddled into you anyway. But now, now when you're trying to keep up boundaries between the two of you, your bed is wildly inconvenient. Especially for Maura who has a really hard time dealing with the boundaries you've tried to create. You know she's been trying. She doesn't hug you as much; she tries not to snuggle into you during movie nights. But sometimes she slips up and does something insanely affectionate, borderline romantic like wipe a crumb from your lip. Or stroke your cheek and look into your eyes. You always warn her when she's doing it, and she either gets annoyed and stops or gets embarrassed and stops. Either way, you've realized that Maura really, really likes touching, and she doesn't know how to be platonic about it.

So when you invite her into your small bed, you kind of know you're asking for trouble.

She behaves at first. You know it must be difficult for her because she keeps her hands kind of tucked beneath her body. Stopping them from reaching out. Sometimes you wonder why she is so affectionate. Maybe it had something do with her childhood. You're certain she didn't get hugged as often as she should have. Or maybe spending all day in the freezing morgue makes her latch onto heat whenever she can get it.

Whatever the reason, she isn't able to keep to herself for long.

Halfway through the movie you notice her shifting closer to you, her face suspiciously calm as her feet make light contact with yours. You figure you'd let it slide. It was only her feet. But after a couple of minutes the complete lower half of her body is pressed into your side. You look over at her warily, but her eyes are still locked on the movie. Maybe she didn't realize what she was doing. Maybe her body just kind of gravitates toward you automatically, a heat seeking missile.

You decide to let this slide as well.

That is before her upper body joins her lower body to press up against your side. Now you know she must have been moving purposely.

"Maur," you say warningly, scooting away from her as much as you can on this tiny bed. You don't even turn your face from the movie, but the frustrated huff she releases lets you know she's biting her lip. You smirk at this a little at how immature she is when it comes to this.

"Jane," her voice calls out so you turn your head to look at her. She's giving you the cutest Maura version of puppy dog eyes you've ever seen. "I'm cold."

You eye her skeptically, but can't help the smile that comes to your face. She's so cute and sexy and ugh. "We already talked about boundaries, Maur," you pause for a moment trying to get your meaning across. She just kind of pouts.

"I've never shared your desire to have them. Besides," she whispers the last words sweetly as she continues getting close to you before pressing her head into your collarbone, "I'm really cold, Jane. Your apartment is unreasonably drafty."Her skin feels so good against yours, but you resist the urge to allow her to cuddle.

"Go back to your side, Maur," you try to say it sternly, but she chooses that exact moment to nuzzle into your neck, the bridge of her nose bumping against your earlobe. You can't help but shiver and she lets out this sexy soft little laugh in return. You feel a coil of heat wind tightly inside your stomach. When she sighs against your neck, you try to speak again.

"I'm starting to think this is your way of telling me you're attracted to me." It's mostly meant to be funny, but you notice Maura doesn't immediately deny it.

After a moment of silence, she simply says, "Don't be silly, Jane."

You're sure it's meant to come off dismissive, but her voice gets somewhat muffled against your hair which she's now basically resting her face against. You figure you should probably just let her get this out of her system. (It's not like you're not enjoying it.)You try to focus your attention back on the movie even though at this point you have no idea what's going on.

But then you hear something. Something that sounds strangely similar to a sniff. Your eyes widen.

"Did yo –did you just smell me, Maura?"

She pulls back from you immediately, her face fire engine red.

"No!" she says almost instantly in response to your questioning eyes. At that point, you notice her breathing is starting to turn heavy and quick.

"Oh my god, are you hyperventilating?"

She starts shaking her head, but nothing is coming out. Her hand flies to her chest as her eyes clench closed. You have no idea what to do or what's happening, so you just kind of pull her into your chest and freak out.

"Holy shit!"

"I-" she tries to speak, but it comes out broken, "I–lied."

You don't quite hear her at first, but then she repeats it again and you start to remember what she told you in the park.

"Is this the Vasogel thing?" you say worriedly still hugging her into your chest. You notice her breathing is calming down, and you figure it's because she just told the truth. You're still kind of shocked by her meltdown. Of course, you believed her when she told you, but you didn't expect her allergy to lying to be this intense. She lets out a heavy, relieved groan.

"Yes that was the Vasovagal syncope thing."

You hold Maura for a moment longer, just still a little shocked at what just happened. Then something clicks for you.

"So you just lied about sniffing me?"

At this, she blushes again, scooting away from you and rising from the bed. At that point, you realize it's probably best not to push her for an answer. She almost let herself get hives and faint instead of just telling you the truth. She goes into your bathroom, and you hear the faucet run for a minute or two before she comes back into the room her face a little wet. She must have splashed herself with water to cool down. You feel the need to point out how completely far pass the line she had crossed, but you know you have to tread lightly.

"Maur, sweetheart," you say as gently as possible before quickly pressing pause on the movie. "This is what I meant when I said we need to establish boundaries."

She tilts her head slightly.

"I don't see how my reaction to lying has anything to do with boundaries." You huff a little at that because you know Maura knows what you're talking about.

"I'm talking about everything that happened before that–the cuddling and what not– isn't exactly normal friend behavior."

She rolls her eyes at you in irritation before mumbling something about not seeing the problem with it. And for some reason that upsets you. Maura is constantly sending you these romantic vibes and yet constantly proclaiming her love for Ian. It's confusing, and you think it has something to do with the fact that in a way she's still using you as a substitute for him.

"Of course you don't see the problem with it Maura," you say matter-of-factly, staring at the ceiling, "To you I'm just a stand-in for Ian."

She scoffs loudly and you just know she's narrowing her eyes at you, offended. "That's not true anymore, Jane, and you know it."

"Yeah, Maura, but it is still kinda true in some ways. Maybe our friendship took a step in the right direction by getting rid of the agreement. But this–cuddling on my bed while watching a movie – is not okay. You're treating me like I'm your boyfriend."

The blonde scoffs again, shaking her head in disagreement. "I do not treat you like my boyfriend."

You raise your eyebrows disbelievingly at her.

"You cuddle with me, Maura…like all the time."

"You get jealous when I hang out with Casey," you pause, leaving room for her to dispute but she doesn't so you continue "You used to cook dinner for me almost every night. You bring me coffee and lunch during work every day. For god's sake, Maura, you just got done spooning and sniffing me."

She looks down at you with widened eyes, and you're getting the feeling she never actually thought about any of the stuff she does. After a moment of silence, she finally speaks.

"Perhaps you may have a point. I suppose I'm just not accustomed to close relationships that don't involve…coitus."

She grimaces at the final word, and you wonder fleetingly if she is disgusted by the idea of having sex with you. After a minute or two of thinking, she inhales sharply like something has suddenly occurred to her

"Ian is coming back in a month." She looks hesitantly at you, and you know why. At the beginning of this thing, she had given your relationship with her an expiration date. When Ian came back, she wouldn't need you. She wouldn't want you.

You can vaguely remember that day at the diner, the way she looked at him, eyes bright with affection. Both of them so lost in each other while you looked on. Some outsider in their world.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Okay so we have a bunch of people who are disappointed with Maura. One person who thinks Jane is being mean to Maura. One person who hates the title of my story. No one who really hates Casey. I love you guys. I laughed so hard at some of the comments. But I also smiled a lot and was very happy. I'm glad you're enjoying this.**

* * *

"You called me?" you say, ambling slowly into the Medical Examiner's office. Maura is typing frantically at her computer, barely looking up to greet you.

"Jane," she says excitedly, still clicking, "You were right. He made a mistake."

You cock your eyebrow in confusion before finally realizing what she she's referring to.

"Really?…oh my god," you smile elatedly before racing over to her side to see exactly what she's found. There on her computer monitor are two molecule compositions juxtaposed. At the bottom of the screen, the words 'positive match' are gleaming brightly.

"I found a tiny piece of blade still lodged in Sara's body," she gestures vaguely to the corpse lying on her autopsy table. You think it's kind of delightful how she still calls the victims by their names. "It's a Scandium-Aluminum mixture." She says the last part excitedly, but you have no idea what exactly she's excited about. When she notices your lack of reaction, she quickly stands up from her computer, turns, and grabs your hands tightly.

"Scandium is only used by 3 blade-manufacturing companies in the entire United States. One of which being in-"

"Boston," you interrupt, suddenly as happy as she is. You pull her in for a tight hug before basically running toward the door.

"Jane, wait!" she calls out and you turn around quickly, "That's not all. The company in Boston only makes them for 3 months a year, and customers have to a specifically request them to be made. It's probable they have a short list of customers who actually ordered them."

You smile widely at her, happy to finally have a solid lead on this serial killer, but also happy that Maura has finally gotten her guy. You know this case has been really getting to her. "I'm proud of you, Maur."

At this she blushes, smiling proudly before waving you off. "Go catch him, Detective."

* * *

It's only 6 hours later that an arrest is made.

Darren Barker. Just some mailman from Suffolk County.

It almost baffles you how easily he blended into society; this monster who had brutally murdered four young women, who had butchered them up like pieces of meat, and left them to die. It baffles you, and it saddens you how many people have probably walked passed him every day, none the wiser.

It's cases like this that remind you how easy it is for evil to win sometimes. How the Charles Hoyts and Darren Barkers of the world can slip by so inconspicuously, never being noticed, never being punished.

Cases like this remind you how important your job is. Because even though those monsters seem to endlessly regenerate, it's people like Maura and Frost and Korsak and you that help most avidly to keep the balance in the favor of good.

When you tell Maura about the arrest, she's so overwhelmed with joy she almost cries into your shoulder. You simply hug her back tightly, inviting her to join you and a couple of other officers to celebrate the closing of the case. She smiles and nods happily, grabbing her coat and following you out of her office.

* * *

The car ride to The Dirty Robber is comfortably silent.

Of course, there are things to say. Things about Ian. Things about the future. Things about your friendship. But Maura and you have silently agreed never talk about those things. The night Maura mentioned Ian's return, you'd realized just how much you'd grown to need her. To depend on her.

Sure, she tried to fervently to reassure you that she felt the same.

 _"I consider you my best friend, Jane. Things have changed so much since we first began."_

But you couldn't help thinking it wouldn't be the same. Not when Ian came back. Part of you still felt that it was mostly the loneliness that kept Maura close to you. Wanting you. And if that suddenly disappeared, if she suddenly had no need for you around.

You wondered sadly if she'd toss you aside as easily as she had captured you.

You tried hard not to think about that for too long though. Because thinking about it made your heart feel like it was banging unpleasantly against your ribs.

And trying to put that unpleasantness into words made your head feel like it was curling in on itself.

So instead of doing either of those things, you'd resigned yourself to silence, and Maura, being just as unequipped to handle the topic as you, had agreeably remained quiet as well.

* * *

The Dirty Robber is loud. And chattery. And you love it. You can feel the happy relief spilling out of every crevice of the place. Everyone is just so collectively cheerful right now that even Crowe can't fight the smile gracing his lips. The killer was caught. The city can sleep a little more peacefully tonight. You only have a minute to take in the wonderful atmosphere before Maura is dragging you to the empty booth seats across from Korsak and Frost. Both of them give the blonde congratulations for a job well done. She quickly returns their congratulations before looking to you proudly. After a moment, once the greetings have died down, Maura looks around, her face kind of scrunched in question.

"Is Casey coming later tonight?" she asks you and you quickly realize that's what she was looking for. He usually always joins the gang during celebrations at The Dirty Robber. But you just don't feel like dealing with him tonight. Casey has been a little clingier than usual since he came back from his Aunt's place. He constantly gets upset with you for spending time with Maura or not coming home directly after work. You have to constantly put down your foot and make it clear to him that he doesn't own you, but still, the arguments keep coming. And you just don't feel like it tonight. You want to relax and celebrate.

"I think we can be away from each other for one night," you send the blonde a tired smile. And she simply nods understandingly, bumping your shoulder gently with hers.

* * *

You are happily buzzed.

Somewhere in the night Frost suggested playing Never Have I Ever, a mischievous smile pulling on his lips. You'd simply rolled your eyes in return, but after seeing Maura's confused excitement, you'd decided why not… Korsak on the other hand had quickly bowed out after two drinks.

 _"Sorry, still gotta drive home tonight guys. Melody would hate it if I came back drunk. See you tomorrow."_

After his quick exit, Maura had quickly gotten the hang of the game, realizing it was better to get the other players drunk before herself.

"Never have I ever," she paused, thinking deeply for a bit, "arrested a criminal."

Frost groans, throwing back a shot while you simply roll your eyes and take a swig from your beer bottle. When she notices both of your unsatisfied reactions, the blonde furrows her brow in confusion.

"What? Did I do something wrong?"

You smile a little at Frost before tilting your head, silently asking him to explain.

"Maura, you gotta try to get the other players to admit something juicy. Like watch," He places his shot glass back on the table, thinking a bit before speaking, "Never have I ever… had sex at work."

At this, you smirk impishly, a small blush coming slowly across your cheeks as you take a sip from your beer bottle. Two sets of eyes widen dramatically at you, but you only look between them and shrug, playing it off.

"Jeez, it was only once, guys."

"With who," they both ask at the same time. You roll your eyes at them playfully, tilting your head back in mock exasperation.

"I thought this was Never Have I Ever. Not Twenty Questions."

Frost just huffs indignantly, waiting for you to tell him. When he realizes you aren't going to, he glares disappointedly before turning his attention back to Maura. "Do you understand what I mean now?" he asks wiping his wet fingers against a napkin.

"I think I do," Maura nods in understanding.

"Okay cool," Frost grins before turning to you, "It's your turn, Rizzoli."

"Hm, Never have I ever…" you hum thoughtfully, deciding what you want to say, "Wanted to make out with someone who works at BPD."

Both Maura and Frost look embarrassed for a moment before bowing their heads and drinking. You drink along too, which doesn't really surprise either of them because you just admitted to having sex with someone at work. You figure Frost is attracted to Susie because sometimes you see the two of them being a little too friendly during trips to the morgue. But you're kinda clueless about Maura. She's never mentioned anyone at work being attractive. And you try not think about the possibility of it being you.

"It's your turn Maura," you say after the drinks are downed.

"Never have I ever," she pauses for a moment before looking at you intensely. You're almost shocked by how sexily teasing her eyes are. You figure the drinks must be kicking in. After she's sure she's got your full attention, she finishes, "made love to a woman."

You fight the urge to throw up right there. What the hell kind of question is that? Frost just kind of snorts, looking at you curiously because he knows who the question is targeted toward. Of course he's made love to a woman, but you…well, that's a mystery.

You force a smirk, trying not to make it so obvious how uncomfortable the question has made you. Maura simply peers into your eyes waiting for your response. After a moment, you bring the beer bottle up to your lips, taking a long sip.

Frost gasps dramatically while Maura simply releases a throaty 'hm' and smiles. The game kind of stalls for a minute after that, and now, with Frost somewhat aware of your secret, you feel too tense to stay. So as naturally as you can manage, you get up from the table smile at the two of them and pick up your jacket.

"I think that was my cue to leave. See you both tomorrow."

Frost groans in disapproval, calling after you, begging you to stay. You only turn your head back long enough to see his pleading eyes. Right behind Maura. Who's watching after you intently. Lip wedged between her teeth.

* * *

You make it outside, but you're far too drunk to drive home. So you call up a cab and wait on the curb. You're kind of shocked that Maura asked you that, in front of Frost. Why did she want to know? Maybe she was just trying to win the game? You don't know; she's confusing. You sigh heavily, resting your head in your hands.

It isn't too long after, that you hear the clicking of heels steadily moving toward you. Your head pops up immediately, sensing who it is.

"So you've had sex with a woman?" she asks you blatantly, and you really didn't expect to be quizzed about this until tomorrow. You groan loudly, placing your head back into your hands.

"Please, not right now," you mumble against your palm

"Jane," you hear her say again, this time her voice is much closer, hovering over you, "I'm just curious. You've never told me."

You peek above you to see her face turned up with curiosity. "Why does it matter anyway? I figured you of all people wouldn't be that much surprised by it."

She smirks a little at your words before sitting daintily on the curb beside you. "I like to know things about you, Jane. Because we're friends." She's framed her words to sound a lot like the ones you'd told her not too long ago. And you can't help but smile in response.

"Yeah, I may have had sex with a woman before. Not a big deal," you mutter trying to sound nonchalant. Maura simply laughs drunkenly, bumping into your shoulder gently before deciding to rest her head against it. The faint smell of alcohol on her breath does nothing to mar her naturally flowery scent, and you can't help but breathe it in. After a minute of silence, she turns her head toward the side of your face, her chin pressing softly into your shoulder.

"Did you like it?" she whispers curiously, her breath puffing gently against your earlobe. You shiver a little before nodding, trying to ignore that familiar twisting in your stomach. Maura moves her hand to rest delicately on your knee, and you bite your lip trying to keep yourself from groaning at the contact. She has to know what she's doing.

"Do you ever think about trying it again?" She sighs heavily, kind of nuzzling her nose against your neck, "Do you ever think about me?"

Shocked at the question, you turn your head hastily toward Maura, not considering how close her face is to you. "Wha-" Before you can get the entire word out, her mouth is pressing sloppily into yours. And almost immediately upon contact the usually composed doctor lets out this deep, satisfied moan, like she's been thinking about this for ages. Her tongue pushes in between your lips as her hand comes up behind your neck, gently pulling you into her. It takes you a moment to understand what's happening, but before you can even stop yourself, your body is responding. Returning her kiss passionately. Hungrily.

"Fuc-" her groan is cut off by your tongue and you can feel her whole body buzzing pleasantly beneath your touch. God, this is heaven. Drunken, horny Heaven.

But you can't help but hear a little voice screaming in the back of your mind. _Casey is at home. Casey is waiting for you._

With that realization, you try to pull back from the blonde, but her lips push forward almost instantly to recapture yours.

"Maur-" you try to say, but it get a muffled in her urgent kiss. God this feels so good. But it's not right. None of this is right. "Maura," you say again, this time placing your hand against her shoulder, "What are you doing?"

Her eyes still half-lidded, flutter open, the dazed expression on her face making your heart warm up for a moment. You did that to her.

Well, you and the alcohol.

But the moment only lasts a second before she's scrambling away from you, eyes wide in what resembles terror.  
"Oh god, oh god," she keeps repeating it like it's some prayer. Like if she says it enough some higher being will undo what she's done. "Oh god, Jane," she whispers bleakly, her eyes starting to fill with tears. She only stands there for a moment more before quickly turning and stumbling back into the bar.

You don't even go after her. You just sit there shell-shocked on the curb until your cab pulls up.

* * *

When you walk into your apartment, Casey is sitting on the couch waiting for you.

"Where have you been?" he asks angrily, and you really don't feel like doing this tonight.

"Casey, please not now."

His jaw clenches as you throw your jacket down on the coffee table. "Have you been with her?"

You're a little surprised by his question, part of you wonders briefly if he followed you to the bar. If he saw you kissing Maura. But then you shake that thought from your mind. It's just the guilt.

"I was at the bar with the guys, celebrating an arrest. And yes, Maura was there."

He rolls his eyes in annoyance, and at this point, you're drunk and confused and frustrated with everyone tonight. Why is Casey always trying to control you? And why is Maura always sending you mixed signals. You just don't understand any of the people around you.

"Why do you hate her so much? What the hell is your problem?"

Casey glares at you a bit, clenching his fists.

"This is just like Lana Morris all over again!" he practically screams, and you physically flinch at the name. Your eyes widen, shocked that he even knows about that. How does he know about that?

"I saw the two of you," you're confused for a moment about who exactly he's talking about before he grits his teeth and clarifies, "You and Maura. All cuddled up in bed when I came home from my Aunt's." You just kind of shake your head at him.

"Yeah I know, Casey, you woke us up. You know nothing was going on-"

"Just like nothing was going on with Lana!" he scoffs loudly, rendering you silent.

"How do you know about that," you finally ask, deciding not to lie to him. You don't have the energy, and he already knows.

"How could I not know?"

The words are said so chillingly that you almost have to force yourself not to shiver.

" I've been in love with you since I was 17 years old, Jane," he stares at you, his eyes filled with sad resignation, "When we were in high school, I was convinced you loved me too. I just thought that all that time we spent lain out in your backyard. Or listening to music in my car. Or just talking for hours. I just thought they had to count for something. You had to feel same way about me. You just had to," he pauses, before roughly rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. You're still kind of in shock that he knows your biggest secret, that he's known all along. And you wish more than anything that you could say something reassuring. That you could disprove what he's already accepted as truth.

But you can't.

Because you realize now, Casey's been as a part of your struggle as you have. Despite what you believed, he was never unobservant; he saw and understood everything. He just simply chose to ignore it. After he composes himself a bit, forcing his voice steady, he continues.

"But then this random girl named Lana shows up. I mean, out of the blue. And you just…you just abandoned me. I didn't understand then, Jane," he curls his fist up against his eyes, "I didn't understand why you chose her over me."

His head shakes a little against his knuckles and you wonder briefly if he is crying.

You wonder what it must have been like for him all those years ago, breaking in silence.

"But then one day. One day I'm just walking through the mall parking garage, and I see you with her. All hugged up beside your car. And I guess, if it had been anyone else, I probably wouldn't have thought much of it. Just two friends being friendly," he lets out this pained sigh, "but the way you looked at her Jane…"

"I just remember thinking, 'Jane's never looked at me that way'"

"Casey," you whisper, the guilt overwhelming you, "It's not like that anymore."

At your words, his head finally rises from his hands, and you're shocked by the fury swirling in his eyes. "Don't lie to me, Jane," he basically screams at you, and you wish desperately you could return some equally passionate declaration of honesty. But you can't. Something about his voice, about the way it breaks a little in anger and agony and pain. You just know you can't argue with him. You can't disregard the point he's so obviously made. Not after what you've done tonight.

So the only thing you can do is say the little bit of reassuring truth you know. "I love you Casey. I really do, and I don't want to hurt you anymore."

At your words, his angry eyes soften into sad determination.  
"Then prove it, Jane," he says, finally standing from the couch, "End things with Maura."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Fanfiction went down for a bit. Sad Face. You guys hate Casey Lmao. It's a little jarring how you all went from barely mentioning him in the comments to basically ripping him apart.**

 **.**

* * *

 _So the only thing you can do is say the little bit of reassuring truth you know. "I love you Casey. I really do, and I don't want to hurt you anymore."_

 _At your words, his angry eyes soften into sad determination.  
"Then prove it, Jane," he says, finally standing from the couch, "End things with Maura."_

At that moment you realize just how much this relationship has broken Casey.

For more than 22 years, he's destroyed himself for you.

He's ripped out every viable organ in his body. His lungs. His brain. His heart. And he's offered them all up to you. Laid them out before you like sacrificial lambs, begging you to take them. Begging you to bless him with your favor.

You realize that he's already far surpassed the limits of dignity, and now, now he's pleading openly for you to pick him. Pick him over Maura. Pick him over Lana. Pick him over everyone else.

Just as he has picked you.

Because that's what love is to Casey.

It's something to be earned and worked for and fought over. It's another war. It's another battle. And he believes unwaveringly that commitment is the key to victory.

He believes that if he breaks enough bones in your honor, if he cries enough tears, if he holds you closely enough, that you'll have to surrender. That you'll have to give him your heart.

But you're starting to realize that that's not how love works at all.

It isn't some battle. It isn't some warzone. It isn't some conquest to achieve. Because with love, if you have to fight for it, if you have to rip it from the hands of another, then it was never love to be begin with.

All this time you've been so afraid. You've been so afraid of letting down the people who matter most to you: your parents, your brothers, Casey. You've been so afraid that if you let them see who you really are, if you were truly honest with them, they wouldn't love you anymore.

You've been trying your entire life, 39 years, to earn something that was never supposed to be earned.

If they love you, they love you.

It isn't an ultimatum. It isn't a choice.

If they honestly love you, they will love you regardless.

So you turn to Casey, for the first time seeing him clearly. You realize deep down, beneath all this anger and possessiveness, he's still the same 17 year-old kid he was years ago. He's still the same broken-hearted boy who used to make you mixtapes during summer. He's still waiting for you. Mostly because you haven't given him any reason to stop. Mostly because you've been dangling him on a line since high school in hopes you could correct yourself and learn to love him back.

But now you think it's time to set him free. To replace all his displaced organs. To finally end the war.

"Casey, I'm not in love with you."

He exhales brokenly. Like he's been holding the same breath for 22 years, and now it's finally out. You can tell he wants to say something to you. You can tell he wants to scream and cry and convince, but as soon as he opens his mouth he closes it again. After a long moment of silence, he finally stands up, throws on a jacket and a pair of shoes, and walks out of the door.

* * *

The next day you wake up feeling so heavy you can't get out of bed. So instead of trying, you tiredly reach over for the cell phone haphazardly hanging off the edge of your nightstand and call in the first sick day you've taken in 5 years.

You can't seem to shake the crushing sadness you feel now that Casey is gone. But you also can't shake the overwhelming sense of relief. For the first time in a very long time, you were honest with yourself. And you were honest with him. And part of you thinks that honesty should be good enough to cancel out all the bad feelings sitting in your chest. Part of you thinks that moment of truth should block all the other moments of dishonesty.

But it doesn't.

Not completely anyway.

When you close your eyes, you can still see your mother cradling you against her chest, dripping teardrops onto your forehead. You can still see Maura pushed up against that elevator wall, her hand shoving at your chest. And you can still see Casey and his sad eyes, peering at you with disappointment and betrayal.

Being honest with yourself was liberating, but what happens now? How are you going to face your parents? What will your friends think? What will your brothers think?

You spend almost 4 hours lying in the same spot you'd awoken. Scared out of your mind. But you know you can't go back to the way things were. You can't go back to dating men with open hearts. You can't go back to feeling nothing while they feel everything. You don't ever want to do to another person what you did to Casey, and that might be the one thing in your life right now of which you are certain.

It isn't until 7 PM, halfway through an episode of some bad cop show, that Maura even comes to your mind. She kissed you last night. Or at least you think she kissed you. The skeptical side of you is still convinced it must have been an alcohol-induced hallucination. But the other side of you, the romantic side, is certain a hallucination couldn't hold a candle to the real thing. And that, last night's kiss, was the real thing.

You spend probably an hour after that just sitting on your living room couch thinking about that kiss. Wondering why it happened. Wondering what it meant.

It takes a soft knock to finally pull you from your reverie. At first, you think it's probably your mother. After all, you didn't show up for work, and you haven't even looked at your phone since this morning. She has probably called you a million times worried out of her mind. You ready yourself to be nagged before reluctantly standing up from the couch. But when you open the door, apology poised on the tip of your tongue, you see a flustered blonde standing in your doorway instead.

"Are you avoiding me?" Maura blurts out as soon as you open the door, "You haven't returned any of my texts or calls. And I just–Last night was–I was very intoxicated, Jane-"

You hold up your hand hastily, interrupting her rambled excuses before waving in the direction of your couch. If you're going to talk about this, it's not going to be under the watchful gazes of the neighbors. She falters a bit before quickly striding into your apartment, and you wonder how long it took her to build up the nerve to come here. She's probably been talking herself up to it all day.

"I haven't checked my phone," you explain plainly when both of you are seated on the couch. You notice how far away from you she sits. But you figure it's probably appropriate.

"Oh," she responds, most likely shocked at the simplicity of the reason, "I thought..."

You just nod understandingly before sighing and leaning your head back against the couch. After a long pause of silence, you look over to the blonde and realize from her worried expression that she's at a loss for what to say. You feel a little too exhausted by all the happenings of yesterday to try and maintain pleasantries now, so you just decide to get to the point.

"Why'd you kiss me?" you inquire bluntly. She inhales sharply at the question, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"I–Jane, you and I, we spend a lot of time together," you nod agreeably, "and in that time, I seem to have developed um…" She pauses uneasily, and you can tell she really doesn't want to finish the statement. So you finish it for her.

"Feelings for me."

"An attraction, yes," She clarifies, "and the alcohol certainly didn't help with my restraint…"

You frown slightly. The way she's describing what happened last night kind of makes your heart hurt. She makes it sound like nothing more than horny drunkenness, and you just…it felt like more than that to you. But you're a little delusional when it comes to Maura sometimes. Maybe you just elevated the whole thing in your mind.

"So you never think about me when you're sober?" you ask straightforwardly , knowing Maura can't lie. You hope if you phrase things clearly enough, she'll give you the purest version of the truth.

At your words, she looks away from you, and you swear you see her cheeks redden a tiny bit. "Jane," she sighs, "we've slept in the same bed before...I've awoken with you literally wrapped around me-"

"What are you trying to say Maura?" you cut her off, wanting an unambiguous answer. You try to catch her gaze, but she still won't look at you.

After a long moment of silence, she finally speaks. "I'm engaged, Jane-"

"Trust me, I know," you huff a little annoyed that she isn't answering the question. But maybe the avoidance is answer enough.

"Jane," she sighs, sensing your irritation, "Can we please not do this? I don't–I can't lose you over this."

You look over at her, a little calmed by the sincerity of her words. She just keeps her eyes down and continues.

"You're the best friend I've ever had. Actually," she pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "You're one of the only friends I've ever had. And I– I just fear I've ruined that."

You can hear the genuine grief in her voice, and for some reason, sad Maura just makes you crumble. So you swallow the pain that's heavy in the back of your throat and pat her shoulder comfortingly.

"You won't lose me, Maur," you whisper out, sighing before closing your eyes and leaning exhaustedly into the couch cushion again. You hear Maura moving, so you crack an eye open for a moment only to see her leaning back into the couch as well. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before you decide to break the silence.

"Casey and I broke up."

Her eyes fly open as her head instantly whips toward you. "What? Why? Not over what happened between us right-" You wave your hand calmingly in her direction, smiling at her concern.

"It wasn't over what happened between us… though that did help it along," you say the last part thoughtfully, "There were a lot of things wrong with our relationship before that though. Mostly on my end. I wasn't being honest."

She tilts her head in curiosity, asking for clarification with her eyes. You just sort of shrug resignedly in return. "I'm gay."

Maura's eyes widen, probably more so at how bluntly you said the words rather than the words themselves. You're a little shocked at how easily they came out too. You expected it to be painful, openly admitting it to another person. But now…now, you just feel relieved. After a beat, Maura slowly, if not a little hesitantly, takes your hand in hers.

"I am incredibly proud of you, Jane," she says almost reverently. And you can't help but smile.

* * *

The two of you spend the rest of the day together talking and listening. Mostly about trivial things. The kiss and Casey is pretty much left untouched, but that's okay for now. It isn't until a little past midnight that Maura decides it's about time to call it a night. She politely declines your offer to sleep over, which, now that you think, was probably for the best, before quickly heading out to her car and leaving.

The next day you force yourself to go to work only to come home and find all of Casey's things gone. At first, you're so shocked by the emptiness of the apartment that you think thieves must have come and ransacked the place. But soon after taking quick stock of all the items missing, you realize Casey must have returned while you were away. Seeing the empty places where his things once fit so comfortably makes you feel a bit like crying. But you cried enough last night and the night before and you don't want to cry about Casey or any of that any longer. So you call Maura up instead and ask her for a late-night hangout.

The blonde's affectionate nature, though a little more reserved now for obvious reasons, works incredibly well when it comes to comforting you. After you arrive at her place and settle into your usual spot on her couch, you start telling her everything about your situation with Casey and your mother. And besides the occasional encouraging interjection, she just listens quietly, holding your hand and stroking your hair. When she feels you've told her something deserving of more intimate affection, she either pulls you in for a tight hug or caresses your cheek gently. Both of these actions though are soft and fleeting compared to the affection she'd so openly given before the kiss. And you find yourself missing how before, she had easily crossed the boundaries you had set for the friendship. Now you find she is more cautious of them. When she feels a hug is stretching on too long, she cuts it off. When she feels a gaze is becoming too tender, she looks away. You realize over the course of the night that she is trying very hard to stop sending mixed signals. Oddly enough though, you two still don't talk about Ian or his return that night. Nor the three nights that follow it. He'll be coming back pretty soon, and that reality always seems to hang heavily in the air, but neither of you will outright acknowledges it. Well until the fourth night at least.

It starts off normally enough. You're watching Maura pour takeout onto dinner plates the way she always does when the two of you eat dinner. You never will understand why she is so opposed to just eating it out of the containers, but she is so you go along with it. It isn't until she's poured and separated the food onto two plates that she brings him up.

"I got a message from Ian this afternoon," she says plainly, looking to you for a response.

You just kind of grunt uncomfortably before picking up the plate she's made for you and walking into the living room. When she realizes you're not going to ask follow up questions, she quickly grabs her own plate and follows you.

"He said the loose ends with the clinic were tied up quicker than usual, and he's going to board a flight back home tomorrow," She says it quickly, sitting closely beside you.

"That's great," you mumble, shoveling the plated chow mein quickly into your mouth. She eats silently for a bit too before finally placing her plate on the coffee table and turning to you.

"I think we should talk about this."

"Talk about what," you say, pretending to not understand her what she means. You really do not want to deal with this.

"Jane," she says firmly, taking the plate of food from your hands and placing it on the table beside hers, "I want to make certain you know I still want you in my life even after Ian has returned."

You look at her blankly for a bit before shrugging and leaning back into the couch. "I know."

"And I also want to make certain that you are okay with still being in my life…as my friend," She looks at you timidly, and you start to understand what she's trying to say. She wants you to know that when Ian comes back things aren't going to be the same, that you are going to lose her in some ways, that what happened outside of the bar can never happen again. You realize she's trying to keep you and dismiss you at the same time. Maintain your friendship but on her terms.

You can see her eyes begging for your agreement but instead of giving it to her you just release a sigh of irritation. Her rejection is killing you.

"Are you going to tell him about the bar?"

She looks into your eyes minutely shocked that you brought that up. You two haven't really talked about that either.

"I'm certain I will when the moment is right." You just cock an eyebrow disbelievingly at her response. When the moment is right? How much more elusive could she be?

"So that's a no, then, right?" you retort in irritation, "We can't have Ian knowing his fiancé was playing tongue hockey with someone else."

You feel her stiffen at your words. "That's not-"

"Don't give yourself hives, Maura," you interrupt curtly, noting her flustered expression. You're certain she didn't expect you to react like this, and you're not sure exactly why you are. It's not like you expected Maura to tell Ian about what happened at the bar. But there's something about the fact that she felt the need to bring him up, that he's still so important to her. It upsets you.

"Jane," you hear her mutter lowly, "It's not that simple. I can't just–"

"You can't just what?" you pause, staring scornfully into her eyes, "Tell him that you're attracted to me?"

She shakes her head quickly before turning away from your judgmental gaze. "Nevermind. Forget I even mentioned it."

"Why, Maur? I thought you wanted to talk," you push, and you see her roll her eyes.

"You're acting like a child."

"You're acting like you didn't have your tongue shoved in my mouth five days ago."

She bristles at your response, quickly sending you a harsh glare. "I was _drunk._ "

You roll your eyes at that. "You were sober enough to stop."

"I didn't stop it. You did," she returns quickly, her words rapidly becoming as heated as yours.

"Would you have preferred I didn't?" You quip sarcastically, leaning toward her patronizingly. She huffs at the comment.

"If you're going to ensure that I pay for it, then yeah, I should have at least gotten my dollar's bang."

You narrow your eyes a little in confused anger before outright laughing. "Did you mean bang for your buck-"

"You know what I meant," she dismisses quickly, a small blush blooming on her cheeks.

You both just sort of stay there, supremely close and glaring at each other before you come to fully understand what she just said.

"So wait. You're saying you would have rather done more with me-"

You're cut off by her fingers pressing into your lips the same way she used to do back during the days of the 'agreement'.

"I'm saying that night was a mistake," she finishes resolutely. You grab her wrist, moving her hand from your mouth before dropping it unconsciously on your leg. When her palm makes contact with your clothed thigh, you notice Maura inhale sharply before pulling her hand away. You narrow your eyes a little in confusion at the response. You can't help but wonder if that was a new thing or if she has always reacted to touching you like that. Maybe you just weren't paying attention before. Maybe knowing that she's at least attracted to you has made you more aware of it. Has amplified it.

Experimentally you reach your hand out again, this time cupping her cheek softly. You see her visibly shutter before quickly wrapping her hand around your wrist.

"What are you doin-"

"I do that to you?" you interrupt watching her face intently, your thumb slowly stroking the skin of her face. She snatches your hand away from her face, not answering your question.

"Just attraction, huh?" you smirk a little at her silence, bewildered that you'd never noticed all these things before.

"Yes, just attraction," she scoffs in return, trying to shake away the heat rising in her cheeks. The thought that Maura might really have feelings for you suddenly doesn't seem like such a faraway reality.

You open your mouth to ask her about the reaction, but suddenly there is a soft knock at the door. Before Maura can get fully off the couch to open it, you pull her back down. You're skeptical of who could be showing up to her house this late besides you. When you ask who it is though, a confused and familiar voice comes from the other side.  
"It's Ian…Who are you?"


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I gave Ian literally one line in the last chapter, and everyone in the comments was already tired of him Lmao. I know a lot of you guys feel bad for the position Jane is in, and I totally get that. I like how riled up you guys get. And I also want to thank all the regular commenters. Lalalalee, you are also a god Lol. A lot of you guys leave me these beautiful comments and compliment my writing and I can't tell you how much that means to me. Thanks cshutts btw. And SarahShalomDavid. And D3nsei. And cjunited38. And god this is going to be longest author's note ever if I go through mentioning everyone, but really guys I want to say thanks because it means a lot. And I love your comments. And welcome new followers and favoriters and commenters and such.**

* * *

 **Maura's POV**

Attraction is a very deceptive creature.

You examine it over and over, obsessively so. You know it. You know every inch of its being; you've seen it first hand, dissected it. Labeled it. Pulled it apart completely before meticulously piecing it back together.

You know why she makes your heart beat faster. And your breath catch in your throat. And your palms sweat. You know it's only some intoxicating concoction of Oxytocin and Dopamine and pheromones . It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't. And you know this.

But attraction…attraction is a very deceptive creature.

And even after you've discovered it, learned it, identified it beyond all reasonable doubt. You can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it could be something more.

And that wondering terrifies you.

So when Ian returns, it's almost as if reaching the eye of the storm. When you hear his voice, you fly off of the couch quicker than Jane's hands can recapture your wrist. You can hear her mumble something behind you, but you're too preoccupied opening the front door to hear it. At the sight of you, Ian immediately smiles; you can tell he's missed you. His eyes roam over your form quickly before gleaming happily. You can barely return his gaze though because his lips are almost instantly on yours. Insistent and wet. His tongue dips quickly into your mouth as his arms move to wrap around you tightly. This is how he always greets you when he comes back from a long trip. And he goes on long trips so often that it's become a sort of welcome-back ritual now. A routine of sorts.

When you were younger, still fresh from your relief work in Angola, you'd treasured every one of Ian's surprise visits. Back then, it was only youthful adventure. You never knew if he'd pop in one night and press you up against a kitchen counter or sweep you away to some dimly lit park for a walk. It was exciting. It was something to look forward to, to hope for. And even though you were pretty certain your feelings for Ian went far pass exploratory, you still never expected more than a friendly, sometimes sexual relationship.

But after awhile, things changed. His visits became more frequent, his stays became much longer. And eventually during one homecoming, probably not even consciously so, he stayed long enough to develop a life with you.

A life of shared closet space and designated bedsides. Of morning kisses and midnight 'I love you's. You'd pass down the latest issue of _Scientific American_ , and he'd brief you on some medical article he read. He'd tag along with you to your mother's art shows or to exhibit openings at the museum. He was always there by your side and you by his. And for a while, it was a happy little setup. You were never alone, not really anyway. And for once, in your entire life, you felt as if someone actually cared for you. And not in the way your parents cared for you where there was always a sense of parental obligation. And not in the way lovers before Ian cared for you where it peaked at the bedroom and quickly dwindled afterwards. It was something you'd never had with anyone else. It was a genuine friendship and a genuine romance.

And though you had hoped he enjoyed the domesticity as much as you, though you had frequently spent your nights lying awake beside him, recounting every event, every shared moment, reassuring yourself that this time he would stay. This time he would want to. It was only after a year of the arrangement that he started his medical tours back through Africa. And it was only two years after that that he settled on developing a new clinic in Ethiopia. Your relationship with him went on awhile like that. Back and forth. Staying and leaving. Whenever he was with you, it was gratifying. It was like every bit of emptiness inside you, all those dark trenches left behind by years of neglect would just…disappear.

But whenever he wasn't with you, whenever he'd kiss you goodbye swiftly in the glaring lights of some airport or nonchalantly tell you of an upcoming trip to one of his clinics, the sense of abandonment was excruciating. It was as if the happy haze had been lifted, the morphine had worn off. And all you could feel was this sad, lonely emptiness.

It was only after years of doing this, of continuing this cycle that finally, one morning in September Ian chose you. You remember waking up to his lips against yours, to his hand pressed against your stomach.

 _"I am dreading leaving, Maura. I could hardly sleep I dreaded it so much."_

It was a beautiful little memory. He had finally whispered against your lips that after one more visit to tie up loose ends at his clinics, he'd come home. For good this time. And he would love it if when he came back you'd be his. Officially. You'd been so excited at his proposal, at the thought of having him permanently, that you didn't hesitate to say yes.

And now here he is. And he's here for good. And he loves you and you love him. And despite all the new problems that have developed in his absence, nothing will change that.

Especially not Jane.

Especially not her lips. And her eyes and that vexing attraction you have for her. Especially not some drunken kiss in the glow of bar lights.

No, those things wouldn't change what you felt for Ian.

So when he finally pulls back from kissing you, smiling happily from ear to ear, you return his smile just as widely. You finally have him the way you've always wanted him. This happy reunion doesn't last long though because Jane is clearing her throat roughly and standing up from the couch. Ian flicks his eyes over to her in an almost startled fashion, and you wonder if he'd forgotten there was someone else in the room.

"I think that's my cue to leave," she says awkwardly, trying to maneuver around the Australian native who is still partially blocking the doorway. He squints his eyes at her for a bit as if there is something about her that's clicking but not quite.

"Wait," he pulls away from you completely, turning to the detective who is still trying to slip her way through the strip of unobstructed space in the doorway, "pardon my forgetfulness, I am still quite a bit jetlagged, but I feel as if I know you from somewhere."

You see Jane's eyes flit to yours for a moment before quickly returning to Ian. "Uh yeah, I think Maura may have introduced us at a diner before," she offers, lifting up her hand in order to shake his, "I'm Jane Rizzoli."

Ian's eyes widen almost imperceptively in recognition as he finally accepts Jane's hand. After a second of shaking, you see Jane's fingers unclench, ready to end the interaction. But Ian doesn't immediately let go. He just kind of stands there, holding her palm hostage.

"Oh you're the Jane Rizzoli who works with Maura at the police department…Detective Rizzoli. Maura's told me so much about you."

You're a little surprised by his statement. You'd completely forgotten that you'd pretty much told Ian about everything that happened with Jane. Well everything up until the agreement. You'd told him about the first time you'd met her. About how she'd sweetly she welcomed you, offering her unrestricted assistance.

 _"I've uh –I've heard very impressive things about you, Dr. Isles," She scratched her neck shyly, " and after having to work with a jackass like Pike, I'm just glad we got someone who knows what they're doing."_

 _"Oh, that's very kind of you to say, Detective," you blushed slightly, glancing away from her surprisingly soft brown eyes._

 _"Ahem," she cleared her throat awkwardly, rocking back and forth on her heels, "well, anything you need, Doctor, don't be afraid to come to me. "_

As the months passed by, you had often gushed to Ian about how pleasant she was to you, especially compared to the other detectives. She never pointed out your way of dressing if not in compliment. She never rushed your results or ridiculed your choice of words.

 _"We'll have to run tests on the reddish brown stain in the carpet."_

 _"Reddish brown stain?" she cocked one eyebrow up in confusion, "are you talking about the pool of blood in the living room?"_

 _"Well…it has to be verified before we know with certainty what it is…" You'd fidgeted nervously. Whenever the other detectives heard you say something like that they'd snicker under their breath or roll their eyes in irritation. Jane did neither. She just kind of smiled amusedly before patting your arm._

 _"Very thorough…I like that."_

Sometimes you'd tell Ian about overhearing Jane defend you against some discourteous officer or talk you up to one of her fellow comrades. It made you feel very accepted in an environment, which for the most part, you weren't. Overall, at least at the start of your job at BPD, Jane was a frequent, happy subject of conversation, and Ian often teased you about the budding office friendship. You'd just waved him off though, embarrassed at his assumption but still somewhat giddily hopeful. You'd never had an honest friendship before, outside of Ian anyway.

But it wasn't long before your hopes were dashed completely. Eight months or so after developing a rather promising acquaintanceship with the star detective, things changed.

Dramatically so.

It was almost if a switch had accidently been flipped, and suddenly Jane Rizzoli didn't like you anymore. She no longer defended you in conversations. She no longer opened doors for you or smiled sweetly as you walked pass. She no longer complimented your attire or your thorough work ethic. Instead she mocked you openly and seemed upset at your very presence. It was so glaringly different from how she treated you before that you briefly wondered if you'd simply imagined all her kind behavior. If those 8 months of friendliness had all been some complex hallucination. You remember sighing sadly over Skype as Ian assured you it wasn't a big deal, that she was just jealous of your brilliance. Though you'd smile at his attempts to comfort you, they'd done nothing to soothe your disappointment. You really wanted Jane to like you. What had you done wrong?

After a while of taking her teasing, she'd mostly stopped being a topic of conversation for Ian and you. Well, except for that one night when you freaked out over webcam about her kissing you in the elevator. Oh wait…

Your eyes widen in realization.

Oh god, he knows about the elevator. Ian knows about the kiss. You quickly try to gauge his emotions, but his face is only adorned with a confused yet pleasant smile. Which is unsettling considering he's aware of the horrible way Jane treated you. When you eye Jane, you notice she seems slightly caught off-guard by his previous statement. She probably had no idea how much you'd noticed her even before the 'agreement'.

"She's talked about me?" she asks disbelievingly and Ian simply nods.

"Yes of course, though I must admit, some of what I've heard isn't particularly flattering." Jane's cheeks redden in embarrassment. She looks at you quickly, probably for help, but before you can say anything, Ian continues talking.

"I apologize if that came off a bit blunt, but I'm a little confused at the moment," he turns his head briefly toward you before turning back to Jane. "If you're the Jane Rizzoli I'm thinking of then," he pauses for a bit, squinting his eyes, "what exactly are you doing in my house?"

Jane seems a little thrown off by the question as she looks at you again for help.

"I invited her over," you cough the explanation up hurriedly, quickly placing your hand against Ian's arm reassuringly, "I wanted to resolve some of our issues…"

It isn't a lie. You did want to resolve some problems with Jane, mostly regarding Ian's return though. Jane seemingly catches on to what you did and nods her head in agreement.

"Yeah we decided to bury the hatchet over dinner tonight, but… hm," she hums a little, glancing down at her watch, "It's getting pretty late. I should probably start heading home soon so…I guess I'll see you tomorrow Maura."

She waves briefly before quickly slipping out of the door. "Oh, and nice seeing you again too Ian," she tacks on kindly as she shuffles to her car.

You watch her for a moment before you turn back to Ian's questioning gaze. "Is there something going on?"

"What do you mean?" you try to ask it innocently, hoping to hold off his interrogation long enough to develop a story. He closes the front door before taking your hands in his.

"I mean, wasn't that the woman who tormented you?" Ian looks into your eyes searchingly, "what was she doing here honestly? She didn't try to hurt you, did she?"

You shake your head quickly, meeting his gaze with a comforting one. "Of course not Ian. Jane and I have moved pass the incident. She's honestly a very kind woman." He looks at you disbelievingly before saying, "I thought you were going to file a report against her. Did she talk you out of it or something?"

You shake your head again. This time taking his face in your hands. "I talked myself out of it. She's a brilliant detective, and I reasoned there was a better way to deal with it than destroying her career and reputation." Ian still doesn't look satisfied with your answer so you continue.

" Everything involving the elevator and the events before it have pretty much worked out in your absence. Tonight we were just discussing a few more things." You kiss him lightly to punctuate your statement before hugging him closely. "Now, that that's said. I'm really rather curious how you made it here so soon."

Ian pulls back looking into your eyes a little more relaxed than before. "I was able to wrap up things a lot quicker than expected. I thought maybe I'd surprise you. But it looks like I was the one surprised."

You smile sympathetically before leaning close to his ear and whispering softly, "The night is still young. There's still plenty of time left to surprise me."

He chuckles lowly against your neck; the subject of Jane all but forgotten. You feel his lips press wetly against your jaw as his hands wonder down to your ass.

"Is that so, Dr. Isles?"

* * *

Jane had been avoiding you for 3 weeks now.

Not outright avoiding, but maybe evading you slightly.

She still greets you at work; she still brings you coffee if you can't make it to lunch. She still jokes around with you and carpools to crime scenes. But you can't help but feel as if she's pulling away. She avoids your phone calls frequently. You two haven't seen each other outside of work since Ian's been back. And maybe that's partially your fault because Ian pretty much reserves your nights. But still, outside of lunch breaks, Jane refuses to go anywhere with you beyond BPD's front lawn. Part of you is sure it has something to do with Ian's return. You know she was a little bit wary that you would revoke the friendship once he was back, but now you've all but proven that false. You are constantly reaching out; sometimes even putting Ian on the backburner in order to spend time with her. But recently, she just seems so unconcerned with you. And you don't understand.

It makes you wonder if Jane is just like all your previous "friends". If maybe now that sex is so apparently off the table, she has simply lost interest in you. You scoff a little at yourself. You remember the moments right before Ian returned. You remember vainly trying to make her promise that she would remain your friend; even with Ian back, even with the allure of an affair firmly doused in reality. You wanted her to still care for you. To still want you in her life.

But even then she hadn't committed herself to the idea. Even then, she'd simply gotten upset with you before throwing the infidelity in your face.

You try hard not to think about it too much as you pack away your things for the day. Frost has already informed you of a hangout happening at the Dirty Robber, and this evening you plan to attend. You haven't really been able to go out with your friends lately because of Ian and wanting alone time with him. But you've really missed your friends, and you really want spend time with them…especially Jane.

* * *

When you finally arrive to the bar, the gang is already there. Korsak and Frost seem to be involved in a heated game of darts while Jane is simply sitting in the booth adjacent to them, looking on amusedly. There is some strangely sedate tune spilling from the bar's speakers, but you can only hear a bit of it before the sounds of the bar's residents drown it out.

 _Another dream_

 _where you can't get what you want_

 _but you can get me…_

You nod your head unconsciously to the beat as you walk toward the table of your friends.

"Hello everyone," you wave happily when you get close enough to greet them all. At that very moment, Frost sends an unsteady dart flying toward the board only to watch it hit firmly on the outer edges.

"Ugh," he groans loudly as Korsak lets out a loud, bellowing laugh.

"Well, that's another ten bucks," the older man smirks arrogantly, patting the smaller man playfully on the shoulder. Frost rolls his eyes before digging two five dollar bills out of his pocket and throwing them on the booth's table.

"I'm going to get another beer," he huffs a little embarrassed by his defeat, "Take over for me Jane." He doesn't wait for her answer before finally turning to you. He looks surprised that you made it, but that doesn't stop him from smiling instantly. "Well hello there Maura, it's good to finally see you," you return his smile happily, hugging him when he opens his arms to you. After the quick embrace he pulls back, tilting his head toward the bar. "Do you want anything to drink while I'm over there?" You quickly shake your head no, thanking him for his politeness before sliding into the empty booth seat next to Jane. As Frost starts on his way toward the bar, Korsak greets you warmly, commenting on your recent absences from their Dirty Robber hangouts. You simply shrug, explaining that you've been a bit busy lately with Ian's return. When he nods understandingly, you finally turn your attention to Jane. You've really missed all your friends these past few weeks, but it's the beautiful brunette you've probably missed the most.

"Hello, Detective," you say sweetly, bumping into her shoulder lightly the way you two often do. But instead of bumping yours in return like she normally does she simply scoots farther toward the wall.

"Hey, Maura," she returns awkwardly, "I didn't think you were coming." She doesn't seem even the least bit happy about your presence and that makes you feel suddenly out of place beside her. Should you not be here? Are you not welcome anymore? Before you can respond to her Korsak taps heavily on the booth table.

"Come on, Jane, you're supposed to be playing for Frost." The younger detective simply waves him off, taking a short sip from the auburn liquid in her glass. "I'm not feeling it tonight. Maura can play for him." Your eyes widen at the suggestion. You've never played darts before, and you certainly don't want to play now with Barry's money on the line.

"I fear I'm not very acquainted with this game. I wouldn't be much competition."

"Aw come on, Doc, it's pretty easy. I bet you'll pick it up in no time." Korsak shoots you an entreating grin before patting your shoulder encouragingly. At the sight of his infectiously friendly smile you can't bring yourself to say no.

"Well, I guess…but I'm going to need a few practice throws to get accustomed to it."

Korsak nods happily, and you hear Jane exhale disinterestedly. You decide to ignore the brunette's reaction choosing to focus on the friendly face of the older detective.

Soon, Korsak positions himself in front of board and demonstrates for you how to throw the dart correctly. After a few more examples, you nod your head in understanding before taking an offered dart from his hand and lining up your shot.

You first attempt is underwhelming at best. The dart flies a few inches before plummeting into the hardwood floor. Your cheeks redden in embarrassment as you look from Korsak to the dart on the floor, but he simply chuckles before telling you to try again. You try three more times, each shot as disappointing as the first. It isn't until you're lining up for your fifth attempt that you hear Jane snicker a little from behind you. You quickly whip your head around to face her, a bit self-conscious and annoyed at her reaction. When she catches your irritated gaze, she simply rolls her eyes before standing up from her booth seat.

"Maura," she says, her eyes scanning down your body for a moment. You feel your cheeks redden again; this time for an entirely different reason. "Your posture is completely off." You look over yourself briefly, confused by Jane's comment. You had taken the exact stance Korsak had shown you.

"You can't throw the dart when you're facing the board directly. You gotta turn to the side a little," she says helpfully, but you're not completely sure what she wants you to do. After a moment of switching positions and watching her shake her head in disapproval you huff jaggedly. She laughs at your frustration before walking toward you.

"Here let me show you," she says, coming up closely behind you and grabbing your wrist with her hand. "Okay turn to the side like this." she places her hand on your waist gently maneuvering you into the position she's referring to. You bite your lip to keep from gasping at the contact. You flick your eyes quickly to Korsak who is simply looking on curiously.

"Okay," you hear her rasp into your ear. God, she is so close to you, "Now bend your arm at the elbow, aim a little higher than the bullseye," she almost whispers the last word, her nose now pressing against your exposed ear. You can't help but close your eyes at the sensation. Why are you so attracted to this woman?

"And shoot," she hums, using your hand to throw the dart for you and at the same time pulling your back flush against her chest. You can feel her pelvis bump against your ass. Then, as quickly as it came, her presence behind you is gone, and you're opening your eyes to find the dart on the outer edges of the bullseye.

For a moment, you just kind of stand there, shocked and unable to move. Did that really just happen? In the middle of the Dirty Robber…in front of a huge crowd of you colleagues. You glance over to Korsak whose mouth is just hanging slightly agape. When he notices you've turned your attention to him, he loudly, awkwardly clears his throat and looks away embarrassedly.

"Uh where's Frost? Feel like he's been gone for ages…better go find him," he stutters it out hastily before quickly making his escape. You notice a few other eyes looking toward you, but most of the crowd is still very distracted by their own conversations. You look over to Jane who is once again sitting in the booth, sipping her glass of alcohol. Like nothing even happened.

Maybe nothing did happen…maybe you're just oversensitive to her touches.

But Korsak's expression…he certainly didn't think it looked like nothing. You sit dazedly in the booth seat next to Jane.

"What was that?"

She takes another drink from her glass before shrugging. "I was showing you how to play darts." You nod, completely perplexed but not quite sure how to express it. Jane is so confusing sometimes. You eye her for a moment, knowing something is wrong. She's been oddly quiet tonight plus she's been avoiding you for three weeks straight.

"Did I upset you, Jane?" she widens her eyes a bit at you, shocked by your question.

"Why do you think I'm upset with you?"

"Well, you don't want to spend time with me anymore. You seemed displeased with my appearance here tonight. And you haven't really said much to me. Well, not as much as you usually do," you sigh after you've listed all the evidence. Jane just kind of bows her head when you're done.

"I'm just dealing with some things right now, Maur…I don't mean to push you away. I just need some space."

Your heart almost breaks at her words. You should have never gotten drunk that night at the bar. You should have never kissed her. Everything was going beautifully. You finally had a real friend, a friend who didn't need you sexually or romantically, a friend who didn't care how much your inheritance was, or how smart you were. A friend who admired your quirks. A friend who genuinely liked spending time with you. But now, well now you've gone and ruined everything with some drunken, sloppy kiss.

Some drunken, sloppy, incredible kiss.

You lean your head back tiredly against the bar, hearing the same song from earlier slowing to a close.

 _If you can't get what you want_

 _Then you'll come with me_

 _Set up and seek…love_

You hear your phone vibrate in your purse and you quickly take it out to find a message from Ian.

"Sinto sua falta."(I miss you)

You smile at the sincere honesty of the message.

It isn't long before Korsak and Frost come back to the table, both of them looking between Jane and you awkwardly. You figure they've been away somewhere by the bar, gossiping excitedly, but you don't really want the drama tonight. You just want to spend time with your friends. But the way they keep looking at the two of you, you can tell the tension in the air isn't dissipating anytime soon. You sigh disappointedly.

"Guys I think I'm going to call it a night…" Both the men look at you regretfully, pleading kindly for you to stay.

 _"You've only been here for like ten minutes!"_

 _"Yeah come on Doc."_

But you simply shake your head, explaining to them how tired you are. Which is not a lie. You are absolutely exhausted.

"I'll see you all tomorrow," you nod at them, flicking you eyes down briefly only to see Jane staring quietly into her glass.


	10. Chapter 10

Jesus Christ guys Lol. The comments were so all over the place. I never know how you guys are gonna react. BTW Floatingbluebutterfly i don't know how to speak Portuguese unfortunately. I found the translation because I figured Ian and Maura would know Portuguese because they did relief work in Angola which has an official language of Portuguese. Oh and btw I'm thinking about ending this story next chapter or the chapter after that. Totally unrelated, if a story were to end badly would you guys hate the author or? From one to ten, one being nah I'd still love you, and ten being I'd never read a story by you again. Just leave that in the comments along with your thoughts. Not saying that i will because seriously i haven't completely decided.

ITALICS=FLASHBACK

* * *

 **Maura's POV**

 _It had taken a lot of convincing and a tiny pinch of begging, but Jane had finally (reluctantly) agreed to come along with you to you L'Espalier, an upscale French restaurant on the high society side of Boston._

 _"Why can't we just go to the Dirty Robber?" she whines, pulling at the bottom of her dress._

 _"Because the Dirty Robber doesn't serve the best Pâté lorrain in the state," you smile at Jane over the top of your menu. She only glares at you in response. "Besides Jane, we always go to the Dirty Robber."_

 _"Yeah well, the Dirty Robber doesn't require me to wear 3-inch heels and a dress," she sighs, fidgeting uncomfortably, "Seriously Maur, do I look stupid right now?"_

 _At this you place the menu firmly on the tabletop, eying Jane with what can only be described as humored admiration._

 _"Oh, Jane honestly… don't you know?" she looks at you perplexed, "You are gorgeous, my friend."_

 _At that, she blushes faintly before mumbling, "You're just saying that to make me feel better."_

 _You shake your head, giving her the most sincere look you can conjure up. "I'm serious, Jane. You are absolutely stunning." She finally smiles bashfully, sipping at the glass of wine you ordered in order to distract herself. As soon as the crimson liquid touches her tongue though, her face goes from flattered to disgusted._

 _"They better serve beer here."_

* * *

Ian's been getting restless lately. The move has been a hard transition for him, and even though he asserts that it's nice to have some downtime, you can't imagine how difficult it must be for him to go from saving people around the clock to simply lazing on the couch until you come home. You can tell by the way he speaks endlessly of his African patients that he misses them. That he misses being out there in the depth of things and making a visible difference to the small communities around his clinics. It was his passion, his self-declared purpose. And sometimes you try to give him an out; sometimes you feel as if you've stolen him from his true calling. You don't want him to feel trapped with you.

But even after you ask him if he would ever consider taking back up his relief work, he assures you that he's happy to be home with you.

 _"Don't get me wrong, Maura. As much as I love being a hero in some other country, being here with you is where I belong. I'm certain."_

And as romantically kind as his words are, they do nothing to assuage the guilt you feel. You've taken him away from his true passion. Maybe not purposely so, but you didn't even think twice before accepting his proposal. Maybe that was selfish on your part.

Because as much as Ian loves you, he's been committed to his practice much longer. He's given that one, shiny dream so much of himself that you're not really sure if there's anything left for you.

But you try to swallow that doubt though because when you wake up he's already up and showered. And he's telling you that he's considering applying to some hospitals around Boston or maybe starting a free clinic of his own right here in the city. And you know it's not the same, but he seems excited by the prospects. So encourage him and smile. And as you head off for work, you kiss him goodbye.

* * *

Jane ignored you at work today.

It was lunchtime, and she had canceled on you, explaining via text that she was a little preoccupied with work. But you had already been waiting at the coffee shop for a couple of minutes, so you decided to buy her something while you were there. You knew she must've been at least a bit hungry. So you bought her a cannoli and a cup of black coffee (alongside an unhealthy amount of sugar packets). Just the way she likes it. But when you made it back to the station and placed the coffee and treat on her desk, she simply glanced up at you briefly before looking back down at the files in her hand. A little shocked by her blatant dismissal, you looked over to Korsak and Frost for help. Both simply frowned and shrugged at her actions.

Later on that day, when she came down to the morgue with Korsak, she didn't say a single word to you. Even when you directly addressed her she would only shrug or grunt in response. Eventually by the end of the day, you'd gotten so annoyed with her behavior that you'd caught up with her in the BPD parking garage and demanded she speak to you.

 _"I told you I needed space, Maura," she huffed annoyedly before quickly walking past you and waving off your attempts at further conversation._

You sigh as you think about it.

You haven't been able to find any rest tonight, so instead of trying, you just lie awake, recounting all the events of the day in your head. Ian is resting neatly on his side of the bed, his steady breaths calmingly consistent. But for some reason even his presence doesn't soothe you.

You can feel yourself losing Jane.

It's the same feeling you had when she started dating Casey; it's the same feeling you had when she started putting up boundaries. You feel as if she's severing her ties with you, slowly but surely. And once she has separated herself completely, she'll drift away. Happy without you. It's happened before…with all your other "friends". As soon as you were of no use to them, they'd simply stop calling. But despite this fact, and despite how well you'd dealt with those loses before, you can't help but want this time to be different. You can't help but want desperately for Jane to stay.

* * *

 _When the two of you had finally made it back from the restaurant, Jane had felt the weird urge to play a board game with you. To this, you'd happily suggested Scrabble, an idea at which she quickly scoffed. The two of you had played Scrabble many times before and you'd beaten her by an embarrassing amount each time. Of course, she didn't want to play that with you. After searching through your very limited array of board games she settled on a Monopoly box you had pushed toward the back of your coat closet. It was something you'd purchased after Jane had off-handedly mentioned that she used to play the game with her brothers during weekends._

 _It was about 20 turns into playing that you realized Jane knew this game much better than you. Much, much better, and with her inflated rent charges and your unlucky community chest draws, you found that you were quickly running out of money as well as property (you'd mortgaged most of it to stay afloat)._

 _"This game relies too heavily on chance," you huff , crossing your arms as Jane puts down another hotel. The detective only snickers at you before placing her payment of Monopoly money into the "bank"._

 _"I think you're just being a sore loser, Maura."_

 _You hmph disbelievingly before rolling the die against the board. You get 3 dots on each dice, which when you move your piece will land you right on Boardwalk. A property for which Jane has purchased 3 pretty green houses. You're bankrupt._

 _"I cannot believe this," you groan, standing up angrily from your dining room chair. Maybe you are being a little immature, but you can't help it. Jane hasn't exactly been the most gracious winner during this game._

 _"Aw come on, Maur, remember what you told me. It's only a game," she smirks a little at the end as she repeats the words you have often told her after beating her handedly in games of Scrabble._

 _"Whatever," you cross your arms, turning away from her, but you can't even fully commit to being upset because Jane comes behind you and presses her deft fingers under your arms. You immediately start giggling, crumbling against her as she cackles maniacally._

 _"J-Jane, stoppp," you try to sound stern but you can't stop laughing, "You know how s-sensitive I am to Gargalesis."_

 _Despite your pleas, she stays tickling you vigorously for a few more seconds._

 _"Only if you stop being a sore loser."_

 _"Okay fine," you puff immediately and Jane slowly stops tickling you. By now though, both of you are on the floor, breathing heavily and looking ridiculous. You glance behind you to see Jane. Her face is a little red from exertion but a smirk is firmly planted on her lips. When she finally stands up, she helps you up as well before tilting her head toward the table._

 _"So should I set up the board for a rematch or-"_

 _"Absolutely not."_

* * *

It's been two long months of endless space between Jane and you.

For the first month you try to keep yourself away; you try to abide by her rules. But that becomes too difficult after awhile. How can you pass her at work and not say hello? How can see her downtrodden face and not ask if she's alright? You are trying very valiantly to be patient and understanding, but it feels as if Jane was just doing away with you. How can it be so easy for her to just ignore you? To just abandon you?

Still though, you miss her terribly, and even though you're slightly upset with her for pushing you away, the thought of never reestablishing the friendship is killing you. You know you have to say something; you have to at least try.

Finally, you get your chance when you catch her at the end of the day, slipping tiredly into the elevator. As quickly as you can manage in 4-inch heels, you slip smoothly into the elevator beside her.

"Jane," you sigh when you're finally inside of the elevator car. You're trying to express how much you've missed her with your eyes, but she doesn't even look at you; she just stares ahead at the elevator doors, waiting for them to ding open.

"Jane," you say her name again more firmly, but she still ignores you. You press the emergency stop button defiantly, and that finally gets a reaction out of her. She exhales jaggedly.

"I asked you for space, Maura."

You look at her face carefully for a moment; this is the closest you've been to her in months. She looks so…so tired. You watch quietly for a moment as she closes her eyes and leans exhaustedly into the elevator railing.

"Jane, are you alright?" you say concernedly, moving closer to place a warm hand on her shoulder, but before you can touch her she flattens herself against the wall. You feel your heart clench a little. She really doesn't want to be near you.

"I'm fine, Maur. I told you I just need some room to myself. Can you just respect that?"

You shake your head slightly, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes. "Jane, when exactly is this distance thing going to be over. It's been going on for a while now-"

"I don't know Maur," she interrupts agitatedly, "Check back with me in a month or two, and we'll see."

"A month or two?" you gawk, but she doesn't spare a glance at you.

"Jane," you finally move close enough to grab the lapels of her jacket loosely. She's already backed against the wall, so she can't run. "I don't know exactly what I did. But whatever it was," you whisper remorsefully, pulling at the fabric of collar, making her look at you, "forgive me please. Whatever I did, forgive me for it." She eyes you wearily. And despite the cold air she tried giving off before, you know she's vulnerable right now. You can see it in her eyes. You messed up with her at some point. You understand that. Whether it was 5 months ago when you off-handedly agreed that she was a stand-in for Ian or whether it was a couple of weeks ago when you kissed her outside of the Dirty Robber. It doesn't matter really because either way you messed up. And now all you can do is try to repair it.

You realized after that month of trying to back off, giving her the distance she wanted wasn't going to do anything but make it worse. It wasn't going to do anything but get her accustomed to life without you. Even with Ian, it wasn't until he was in bed with you, his lips pressed against yours, that he realized he wanted to stay. Your parents never got close enough with you in the first place; they were always out of arms' reach. And now, Jane wants to be farther. She wants distance. She wants space. She wants a whole freaking galaxy. And you're scared of that because part of you is certain that if she gets it, if she gets the distance she so desperately wants, she will not return.

"Maur, I just need to figure some things out, alright. I'm trying."

"Jane, please," you whisper again sadly and you swear you see her defenses break down. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you bravely, perhaps thoughtlessly, pull her into an ardent hug. Your arms wrap tightly around her waist, your head tucks under her chin. And for a moment the two of you just stand there, silent in this warm one-sided embrace. You think after a minute of her not responding that maybe she isn't going to hug you back. Maybe it's too late; maybe you've already lost her. But then, by some saving grace her long, defined arms wrap around your back, and she pulls you in even closer. You hear her exhale heavily against your hair.

"Jane I miss you." It's the only thing that you can think to say. It's the only thing you really want to say. And she simply nods slowly in response, her cheek rubbing against the top of your head.

"Why you gotta make this so hard for me, Maur?" she says weakly after a minute. But you don't answer immediately; you just snuggle closer into her chest, wanting to savor this. You've missed her warmth so much.

"You're my best friend," you sigh simply, smiling a little at a memory that just popped into your head, "You're my wingmate."

She chuckles sadly at that, her chest vibrating gently against yours. And even though you can sense the melancholy atmosphere of this moment; even though you know this is hard for Jane. You can't help the little bit of happiness that comes over you just at the feeling of being close to her. It's almost as if some unknown weight has been lifted from your chest. You feel as if you can breathe easily for the first time in months. "Dinner, tomorrow. Please," you request daringly after several moments of silence. You pray to some higher being she'll say yes and stop distancing herself from you.

She stiffens at your request though, and even though she doesn't make any moves to end the embrace, you know she's deeply considering rejecting your request. After a moment or two of just standing there, she finally nods before pulling herself away from you.

"Fine," she says shakily, "now push the emergency button again, so I can get out of this damn thing."

You smile widely pushing the button, but staying on your side of the elevator. You don't want to push your luck.

* * *

 _It's later that night, and in place of playing another heated board game, Jane suggests watching a movie. It's some brainless action flick that you can't bring yourself to get invested in, but you let it finish anyhow, not even bothering to complain. Just being with Jane is entertainment enough. After an hour or so the movie fades into silence, but you are too comfortable to move from the cozy position against her side. So you just stay there, leaning against her chest sleepily. Listening to the steady thrumming of her heartbeat._

 _"Tommy called me today," she says out of the blue, her hand coming up to scratch gently at her own chin. She'd told you briefly about her youngest brother. He was the troublemaker of the bunch, 'crazy immature' as she described him. But you could tell by the forced laugh she'd snuck in after speaking that there was much more to his story than that._

 _"Oh," you say concernedly, patting Jane comfortingly on the thigh, "how did that go?"_

 _"Fine I guess…he told me he was getting released in a few months. And he was wondering if he could come stay with me," she sighs. You can sense she isn't done talking, so you wait silently until she continues._

 _"It just reminded me of the situation he's in. Of how fucked up his life has become…I feel like I was responsible for Tommy and Frankie, you know. I was supposed to be their big sister. Keep them away from the wrong crowds. But with Tommy, I don't know… I feel like I failed him."_

 _"Hey," you say immediately leaning back from Jane and taking her face in your hands, "look at me." she doesn't at first, but you stay silent until she does. "What Tommy chose to do with his life is not your fault, okay? None of what happened is your fault, Jane."_

 _She just looks at you disbelievingly for a moment, but you keep eye contact with her until finally she nods._

 _You sigh after a moment, sitting back to once again rest your head against her chest. "You never cease to surprise me, Jane," She hums curiously at your comment, so you attempt to explain. "You try so hard to protect everyone you love, unconcerned with getting hurt in the process. You put people before yourself constantly, openly, and it's just so–it's incredibly selfless," you pause for a second, in awe of Jane. It's moments like these you realize how truly kind she is. Under her strong, almighty exterior, inside she's just so…so soft._

 _"You're miraculous," you whisper out again, hearing the steady thrumming of her heartbeat hitch a little at your words._

* * *

You bang on her door furiously. Jane stood you up. She honestly stood you up. You were waiting at the restaurant for almost 20 minutes before you finally get this lazy, 5-word explanation text from Jane. You almost wanted to cry…well you did cry, but only a little. Surprisingly, you were able to control yourself long enough to make it out of the restaurant without bawling. And by the time you got into your car, your sadness had been quickly overtaken with anger.

You wait outside her door for a few minutes, until finally Jane appears in the doorway. The first three buttons of her blouse have been undone and her face is beet red.

"Uh Maur?" she breathes out heavily, quickly looking behind herself before slipping out of the door and closing it hurriedly. "What are you doing here? I told you I was busy."

You look at her suspiciously, taking in her disheveled appearance and erratic breathing pattern. "No, you didn't tell me you were busy. You just texted, and I quote 'sorry can't do dinner tonight.'"

Jane rolls her eyes a little before smoothing down her locks. "Yeah well, that implies I'm busy." You keep eying her warily until you catch sight of a purplish-red bruise on her neck partially covered by her hair. Your stomach churns uncomfortably. When Jane notices where your gaze is pointed, she quickly readjusts her hair to cover the mark completely before awkwardly tucking her hands into her pockets.  
"Well if that's all Maura, I really-"

"Are you with someone right now?"

Jane hasn't told you about having anyone in her life, but you suppose she hasn't really told you about anything in her life lately. Regardless, a relationship is a big advancement, and you're her supposed best friend…Why hasn't she told you? Maybe this is the real reason she's been avoiding you. So she can spend time with some girl she probably picked up at The Merch. Or worse, some guy she's using to recondition herself into heterosexuality.

She stiffens uneasily at your question before crossing her arms defensively. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

You narrow you eyes, a little offended by her diversion. "Well I thought we were best frien-"

"Are we?" Jane interrupts you accusingly, and you're not quite sure what she's accusing you of. She's the one who's been avoiding you. She's the one who's choosing some sexual encounter over spending time with you.

"You canceled on me, Jane. You're the only one in this friendship who isn't putting forth an effort."

The lanky detective takes a step toward you so quickly, it almost scares you. "Don't you dare say I haven't tried. I'm the only one in this fucking shit-show who's tried."

You shift annoyedly at her crude language, jutting your chin out in defiance. Jane might have been trying in the beginning of this relationship, but she certainly isn't trying now. "You've constantly avoided me, Jane; you've stopped talking to me. You canceled the first plans we've made in-"

"Because I have to Maura!" she all but screams at you, and you flinch at her volume, "The only way I can even function anymore is if I'm away from you."

You furrow your eyebrows in bafflement, watching as the normally infallible detective sighs wearily. Her shoulders sag in defeat, and you feel extremely guilty even if you're not quite sure what for.

"I mean I've tried everything to save this friendship. I tried having boundaries; you blatantly ignored them. I tried dating someone else, and you almost blackmailed me into leaving him. And then when I think, 'well, I can't be much more under her thumb,' you kiss me. You just," she pauses for a bit, shaking her head, "you just kiss me like–like I mean something to you. Something more than whatever this is…"

She scoffs at herself looking away from you for a moment to stare painfully at the scars on her hands, "But then afterwards…god, afterwards, you just disregarded it—like it meant nothing to you."  
She leans heavily against her apartment door, bowing her head for a moment before looking up and catching your gaze.

"And I took that, Maura. I took it just like I took watching you fall over Ian in front of me. But now…now I'm asking you for space; No– I'm begging you for space. And you're not giving it to me."

Her face looks so sad by the end of her rant that you don't quite know what to say. You don't quite understand the weight of her words.

"Jane, I don't want to let the attraction between us ruin our friendship–" Her eyes widen so quickly at your words, you almost shiver at their ferocity.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"She raises her voice, staring at you heatedly, "After everything I just said, you still think all of this is about attraction?"

You peer at her with confusion.

"Maura," she wipes a hand weakly over her face before looking intently into your eyes, "from the moment I saw you, I've just–I've always wanted to be close to you–"

"And I to you, Jane," you return openly, moving closer to her with sympathetic eyes… You want desperately to stop the pain she's feeling, to stop her from being so angry at you. But as you place your hand on her cheek comfortingly your touch seems to have to opposite effect. She all but flinches away at the contact, and you can't help the hurt feeling that thrums inside your chest.

"God this is exactly what I'm talking about. D-Don't do that. You can't do that," she almost whimpers gesticulating wildly with her hands, "You can't come here and look at me like that and touch me like that and then just–just go home to Ian. It's not fair."

You're so surprised and confused by her words that for a moment you just kind of stare at her. "Jane, what's wrong? What did I do?"

She groans in frustration, pulling at her wild locks roughly before sighing in resignation. "How can you be so…so naïve? You know how I feel about you. You must know."

* * *

 **Jane's POV**

She only stands there, staring at you blankly. And you can feel your heavy heart breaking. This is the very thing you sought to avoid. You just wanted to stop feeling it all…to stop wanting her so much.

"Maur," you bow your head again before pressing your hands roughly into your eyes, "I am so-" you pause, readying yourself to be incredibly honest with Maura. To jump head first, no safety net in sight. To tell her the words that have been digging trenches into your heart since the moment you'd thought them up.

"Maura, I am so unbelievably in love with you."


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Wow...the comments though. I have never felt more flattered by complete strangers in my entire life. So seriously thanks guys. BTW _Eve_ never apologize for having long comments, i loveeeeee them. And yours in particular are so in-depth...they just make me incredibly happy. But not to undermine other comments because really they were all pretty fantastic. Which makes me want to mention TheUnknown for a sec, you always call Maura a bitch in your comments, and it's bad but it makes me laugh every time. Anyways a lot of new commenters, too many to mention individually. There were like 45 and awesomely mostly everyone responded to my question. I really was planning on ending this story next chapter. And i still plan to end it soon, but it seems after writing this chapter i've noticed a few complications with that plan (complications which most of you already foresaw). So it might take two more chapter or more idk. Anyways, i'm probably forgetting a bunch of things i wanted to say but yeah, this is getting too long. Read and tell me what you think.**

* * *

 _"Maura, I am so unbelievably in love with you."_

The moment you say it you see Maura stumble back from you. Just a bit. Like the weight of your words have physically knocked her off balance. You can decipher from her expression that she's shocked by your declaration. Or at the very least shocked that you told her. Either way, she wasn't expecting such blatant honesty.

It's only after a few moments of tense silence, of both of you staring at each other that you see Maura's shoulders start to shake ever so slightly. Her bottom lip trembles a bit, the way it always does right before she's about to cry.

"No, no, no, no you don't get to do that. Stop it," you cross your arms tightly, trying valiantly to stop yourself from reaching out, from coddling her. It's funny; after all this time, after all the pain she's unintentionally caused you, the sight of her upset still makes you weak.

Maura sniffles a little, pressing the heels of her hands roughly into her eyes, and you can tell she's trying to control herself. She's genuinely trying. And your heart can't help but thump painfully at the sight. It seems when it comes to Maura, your guard is perpetually down

So before you can even think about stopping yourself, before you can even remind your heart to stand its ground, you close the distance between her body and yours, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her in. Almost immediately, the normally composed doctor crumbles into you, tiny sobs wracking through her body.

"I'm s-sorry," you hear her whimper against your chest, "I just–I just can't, Jane." And you don't know exactly what she's trying to say. You don't know if she simply _can't_ stop crying. Or if maybe she's saying she _can't_ return your feelings.

Either way, it doesn't matter because what you do know is that Maura isn't returning your sentiment. You haven't won her over with some declaration of love. You haven't sparked some long suppressed affection within her. Even though you've essentially sacrificed every bit of pride within yourself, even though you've all but lain yourself at her feet, you realize nothing really has changed. Her heart still belongs to Ian. "I'm sorry," you hear her mumble again, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck.

"I know, Maur. It's okay," you try to sound comforting but your voice breaks a little without your permission, "Just…don't cry, okay. Please."

She doesn't stop though; you feel her vibrating persistently against your chest, silent tears dripping steadily onto your shirt.

"Come on, Maur," you whisper quietly after a moment, letting your hand stroke lightly against her hair. "I didn't tell you I was in love with you because I thought it would change things. I didn't expect you to leave Ian for me."

She shudders hard against you at the sound of his name, a new batch of tears falling quickly from her eyes. But you wait patiently, holding her until they've subsided enough to continue, "You don't owe me anything, okay. I don't expect anything. I didn't expect anything. Sometimes, people don't say I love you to hear it back, you know…sometimes they just say it because they can't not say it," you pause for a moment, not quite sure what more to say.

After a minute or so, you feel her body shiver quickly against yours, but you're not certain if she's still crying or just feeling the aftershocks. So you lean back a bit, just enough to see her face completely. It's tear-stained and red but no less beautiful. And you wonder transiently when you'll stop finding her so completely breathtaking. You wonder when your fascination with her will finally wear off. Because it seems even with your bones aching, even with your heart so irreparably broken, she's still stunning to you. You still love her. You lean in slowly, letting your lips rest against her forehead; you hear her exhale heavily. "I'm sorry for making you cry, Maur," you say after a moment, "I hate it when you cry."

At that she shudders again, and you hear her release what sounds like a pained groan.

"Don't apologize to me. Please," she whispers resolutely even as her voice shakes. She pulls back from you slightly, your lips detaching quietly from her forehead. "Jane," you hear her sigh before moving her hands up to cup your face lightly. It's only then, when you feel the soft skin of her thumbs stroking at your cheeks that you realize you've been crying. "I just…" she says before pausing, staring at you intently, trying to find the right words. You can't quite understand the look she's giving you right now. When she'd pulled back, you'd expected to see sadness, pain, maybe even pity in her eyes, but the way she's looking at you now, the way she's gazing up at you like you're some kind of angel, it doesn't make sense.

"You care so freely," she whispers out poignantly, pulling your face close enough to rest her forehead against yours. "You are just utterly miraculous, Jane Rizzoli," she finishes quietly, breath brushing over your skin for a moment before she finally pulls away. Releasing your face. The moment is so intimate, and her words are so affectionately phrased that you can't help but wonder fleetingly (and maybe hopelessly) if on some level she feels the same for you, if maybe her feelings go beyond attraction and platonic fondness. You wonder if the circumstances were different, if they weren't so rigidly set, if she wasn't engaged and you hadn't waited so long, if there had never been an elevator kiss, if there had never been an agreement, if maybe then… you would have had a chance. It maybe then she would have chosen you.

"I have to go," she says after a moment of shared silence. But she doesn't immediately back away from you, and you don't immediately let her go. Because to some degree, both you know that once this moment ends, once this conversation is finished, it's over. The words will be out, the truth will be revealed, there will be no more innocent, platonic guise to hide under. Now, every touch you give her will be intentional; now every word you say will have all the more meaning. Because now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knows.

It takes a few minutes of just hugging each other tightly before finally, Maura breaks away. You nod at her, tucking both of your hands deeply into your pockets, trying to stop yourself from reaching out, trying to stop yourself from holding on. She wipes her eyes, smoothing out her now somewhat wrinkled blouse before looking back at you.

"Goodbye, Detective," she says finally, and you feel the little remnants of your heart ache slowly.

"Goodbye, Maur."

* * *

"Was that her?"

You hear Riley's voice as soon as you open the door. It's sympathetic and concerned and more compassionate than you've ever heard it. And when you finally nod your head, you see her sigh sadly.  
"I'm sorry Jay."

You lift your hand dismissively, hoping she'll leave it alone. You don't want to talk about it.

"Come here," she commands softly, waving you over to the little space between her knees on the couch. When you finally sit down, your back to her, she wraps her arms tenderly around your neck pulling you in close enough to rest her lips against your shoulder.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say whatever talk you two had out there completely killed the mood."

You rake your hands through your hair tiredly before shrugging. "I'm a little surprised you weren't eavesdropping." Riley chuckles quietly at this before shrugging herself. "I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would."

"I will at some point…just not tonight," you say quietly , and she hums understandingly against your throat.

"Well listen, I don't have to go to work for another…" she pauses briefly, turning her head quickly to look at the digital clock on your nightstand, "3 hours, so…we can do whatever you want to until then." You tense up a little at her words. It's not because they aren't incredibly kind. You know she's just trying to make you feel better. It's just that Riley and you have developed this sort of sexual relationship since you'd driven her home one night from the Dirty Robber 2 months ago. And even though she's gorgeous and sexy and wonderful, you just don't know if you can be intimate with anyone right now.

"I don't really think I'm up for any uh…activities right now, Ry," You respond honestly, and she simply chuckles against your throat before kissing it.

"I said _whatever_ , Jane. If I thought you wanted sex, I would have said sex."

"But I thought this was a—I don't know… no strings attached type deal."

"Yeah, well…" she draws out slowly, "that was more your idea than mine. I would have settled for being your girlfriend."

You stiffen immediately at the last word, but Riley only rolls her eyes and holds you closer, kissing the space right below your ear. "Relax, Jay," she whispers comfortingly, "I can wait."

* * *

 **Maura's POV**

When you arrive home, Ian greets you eagerly at the door

"You won't believe all the job offers I received today," he grins, pecking you on the lips before plopping down the sofa with his laptop. He squints his eyes at the screen excitedly before reading off the names, "Massachusetts General, Sturdy Memorial, Lanhey Clinic, Nashoba Valley…" he looks at you enthusiastically only to realize you aren't responding. In fact, you haven't even moved from the front door. You consider briefly how odd you must look to him. Utterly devastated even as he shares all this good news. It's just your mind cannot leave Jane. You'd even driven clear pass the house, lost in the same repeating memory.

 _"Maura, I am so unbelievably in love with you."_

"Is something wrong, Maura?" he asks concernedly, pushing his laptop to the side before getting off of the couch. When you don't respond immediately, he looks you over curiously before looking down at his watch. "I thought you were going to be out until late," he pauses not quite understanding your behavior, "I thought you meant you'd be working…Did something happen?" You just nod a little in acknowledgement that you've heard him, that you intend to answer

"I was with Jane," You say simply, but his eyebrows rise almost dramatically.

"Jane Rizzoli? Why? Did something happen with her?" His questions come so rapidly and so worriedly that you don't know which one to answer first.

"Did she hurt you?" He asks finally after a moment of you not replying, and for some reason that question shakes you out of your daze.

"No, of course not, Jane would never hurt me. Never." You don't mean to sound so upset by his suggestion; he's just concerned about you. He's worried. Besides, he doesn't know anything about Jane. All he knows is that she held you up against an elevator wall and kissed you after months of tormenting you, and wow, why is that all he knows? You spent months with Jane, getting to know her, getting known. You spent countless afternoons pressed into her side and countless evenings eating dinner across the table from her. You know her; she's important to you. She's not just some woman who kissed you that one time months ago.

But you realize that's all Ian knows of her.

That's all you've let him know.

And you're starting to recognize just how much you've instinctively hidden from him. It isn't as if you consciously decided to keep quiet about your friendship with Jane; it's that you've never really felt comfortable talking to him about it. And maybe that's because some part of you always knew it was something more than a friendship…even before the kiss, even before Jane's declaration of love. Despite your intentions, despite how you reasoned it to yourself, maybe part of you always knew. It's the only way to explain why you never told Ian. It's the only rational answer.

And god, that more than anything makes you feel like a cheater. Because a drunken kiss can be reasoned away, a few nights cuddled up on your couch can be reasoned away, but keeping her a secret? Keeping her shadowed from your fiancé when you could have easily explained your relationship to him…well, that…that speaks for itself.

"Ian there's something I need to tell you," you pause for a second, shaking your head before resolving to be completely honest with him. He deserves it. Jane deserves it. "Actually, there are multiple things I need to tell you."

"Oh…okay," he looks at you a bit nervously, your phrasing making him a little anxious. He sits back down on the couch, and you quickly join him, needing to be eye level .

"Jane and I are friends…" you say vaguely, and he eyes at you a little perplexed before nodding his head slowly. You can tell he was expecting something a little more surprising.

"Well you said the two of you were reconciling, so I guess…" he pauses when you shake your head and reach out to lace your fingers with his. "No, we are—were best friends. For a very long time. Probably from a week or so after your absence…"

This time his eyes widen in genuine surprise."Wow…you've been friends with her for almost what 8 months…why didn't you tell me?"

At this question, you bow your head a little, trying to maintain your courage. "I don't know…I guess I didn't want you to know. Jane and I–we have a very uh unique relationship." At this he leans back a little, his eyes becoming slightly narrower.

"Expand, Maura."

"Our friendship may have resembled a more, " you clear your throat uncomfortably, "romantic relationship… omitting the more intimate portions, of course."

You try to sound detached when you say it; you try to make it not seem as bad as it is, but Ian rips his hand from yours almost immediately, your clinical explanation doing nothing to diminish the hurt expression on his face. "What are you trying to say, Maura? You cheated on me?"

"Define cheating," you respond almost instantly, slipping back into your more deceptive habits, but you know it's the wrong choice when you see Ian's eyebrows furrow angrily. The betrayed look in his eyes is enough to make your heart hurt. You so desperately want to revert back to your roundabout explanations and half-truths. But you realize now that the truth is not divisible. Either it is complete, it is not the truth at all. "I mean, yes, we did–I did kiss her once." He exhales so harshly at your words almost as if you've kicked him in the stomach.

"You kissed her?" he tries to clarify, tries to somehow make you take it back. Because it's easier for him to paint Jane as the bad guy, the seductress and you as the naïve, lonesome damsel who simply fell into her trap. But that isn't the truth.

"Yes I-I kissed her."

"And who stopped it?"

You hesitate for a moment, ashamed. "Jane."

"God," he groans so loudly it scares you, "You just—God!..you didn't do anything else with her, did you? Please, tell me you didn't."

"Besides the kiss…and frequent," you clear your throat awkwardly again, your cheeks reddening, "cuddling, no, nothing else." He pauses for a long moment, just looking at you, eyes wide and judgmental.

"But you were just with her now," he states accusingly, "what were you doing?"

"I went to her apartment because we were supposed to have dinner, and she canceled. And I-I was upset. So I went there, and she was," you pause, remembering a disheveled Jane slipping out from her apartment.

"She was what Maura?" Ian pushes you on impatiently.

"She was um busy…but at any rate, we talked. And then we argued. And then she…she told me that she loved me, that she was in love with me…and then we talked again briefly and I left. Nothing happened-"

"What do you mean 'nothing happened'?" Ian interrupts , staring at you intently, "you just told me she said she was in love with you."

"Yes, but I meant infidelity wise."

"All of this Maura," he says, raising his voice at you for the first time, "is cheating. Emotional infidelity is just as, if not more so, disloyal than a physical affair." You consider his words quietly. Emotional infidelity. Had that been what it was? It takes a few minutes of silence between the two of you before Ian finally sighs. You can hear him composing himself, trying to reign in his emotions.

"Maura," he says sadly, his frustration from earlier all but gone. . It's odd how rapidly his mood has calmed, but Ian then again has never really been one for anger. That's probably one of the most jarring distinctions between Jane and him. She's all passion and flaring temper. Flailing hands and a choleric temperament. Ian, on the other hand, is all quiet concern. A raised brow and an uneasy smile.

Ian told you he loved you in the middle of breakfast; he just snuck the words in right over a cup of herbal tea. And Jane, well she told you she loved you on the dingy steps to her apartment. She just kind of groaned it out as if she was in pain. As if the words were literally ripped from her chest.

The two of them fought differently. The two of them loved differently.

"Are you in love with her?" he asks after a moment, taking your hands loosely in his. It's such an oddly simple question, and yet you'd never thought about the answer. When Jane confessed her love for you, you never considered if you returned them. You're with Ian. You love Ian. And that's the end of it. But now that he's asked you in such a straightforward manner…it's not so black and white. It's not so clear. It's just…the feelings you have for Jane are different from the ones you have for Ian. They're so different that to classify them both as love seems almost a disservice. You shake your head a little at your confusing thoughts. What matters most isn't what exactly you feel for Jane. What matters most is what you feel for Ian. And you're certain that you love him.

"I don't know how I feel for her, Ian…everything about our relationship is confusing, but I am certain of what I feel for you. And I am certain that I want to make our relationship work."

He just sighs at your response, and you know it isn't what he was hoping for. But it's the best you can say honestly. After a moment he lets go of your hands before standing from the couch. Without saying a word, he walks toward the back of house, returning a few moments later with his wallet, his keys, and his toothbrush. You're still sitting on the couch when he comes back. Waiting patiently for his response. Finally he gives it to you, pushing his wallet into his back pocket before kneeling down in front of you.

"I'm trying my very best to accept this, darling," he whispers sadly, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek, "You shared yourself intimately with another person…you betrayed me. But I realize now that I may be somewhat at fault for this. For a long time, I was more often halfway around the world than I was with you. And I know now how lonely and upset and unloved you must have felt. But I'm here now Maura. I'm here, and I love you," he pauses briefly looking up at you in sad resignation, "and I want you to be just as committed to this relationship as I am. So," He stands up, clearing his throat in an attempt to steady himself. "So I'm uh—I'm giving you a week to think about it, and if you still think this relationship is what you want at the end of that time, then I'll return happily…and if don't, well I-I guess—I guess that's that."

You stare at him perplexed and maybe little scared…you don't want to be alone with your thoughts. You know what you want.

"Ian I'm committed to _you_. I want to work this out."

"Well, if you're certain now, then you'll be certain in a week," he responds quickly before clearing his throat again. "I-I just can't be with you right now knowing you might be in love with someone else." He mutters it quietly, and the guilt you feel is overwhelming. He wants you to prove your love; he wants you to prove that even if he leaves you alone in the house with full freedom to see Jane, you won't because you love him more than you want her.

It's a true test of faith.

And you don't intend to disappoint him.


	12. Chapter 12

**_AN: Sorry for the wait guys, I know i usually update within a week, but a lot of things have been going on (school, death in family). Plus, this chapter was meant to be the ending, but it became a monsterrrrrrrrrrrr. Huge. So i decided to just split it at the 5000 word point and post the other one a little later. I already wrote the ending though guys, so you can rest easy knowing the finale has been decided. Thanks for the PMs and Comments guys, i got some reminders the other day. Yesterday to be exact, and they really made me smile. Thanks again people. Review and tell me what you think._**

* * *

 ** _Day 1_**

Ian is waiting.

His motel room is so dimly lit that he can barely make out the numbers on the worn analog clock hung up above the television. This place is the best he could do on such short notice. This cold, cramped, probably bug-infested motel room.

Maura hasn't called yet. It's been an entire day, an entire 24 hours, and she still hasn't called.

He understands why; he told her to wait a week. But still…he'd expected some argument. Some resistance. He'd stayed locked up in this depressing little motel room all day, hoping for, waiting for some sort of evidence, some sort of sign. One call from Maura to prove she was at least a little worried…sad…missing his presence. Beyond the few soft pleas for him to stay, she hadn't seemed very distraught over his departure. She hadn't even watched as he walked out of the door. And as bleak as that fact is, it doesn't stop Ian. It doesn't make him schedule a flight for Ethiopia. It doesn't even make him angry.

It just makes him wait.

Patiently.

Miserably.

He loves Maura.

No… he is IN love with Maura. He has crossed an ocean to be with her. He has given up his life's work to be with her. Not because it was a safe choice or a smart choice or an ethical choice. Not because Maura had waited a decade for him and showing up was the kind thing to do.

No.

He has flown all this way; he has given up everything because he knows that Maura is it for him. Maura is the person he's going to grow old with. Maura is the person he's going to wake up to every morning of his life. Maura is the person he's going to have kids with and pets with and inside jokes with. Maura is it. She's the one. He knows that now.

And if he would have known a decade ago, if he would have slowed down long enough to look at her, to really _look_ to her, he would have known then.

But he didn't.

And he unknowingly let her fall into the arms of someone else…and so now, he must do what Maura did year after year.

Now he must wait.

* * *

 **Maura's POV**

The bed is uncomfortably cold. You're uncomfortably cold.

And despite the fact that majority of your job is done in what's basically a human freezer, you're not used to being uncomfortably cold. The sound of the television is playing relaxingly in the background. Some sports jargon, batting averages and running averages. Whatever. You don't care. Well, not really anyway. But for some reason you can't bring yourself to change the channel, for some reason the white noise is pleasant to your ears.

You remember the evenings back during the agreement when your TV always seemed to be on some sports channel. You remember Jane going on and on beside you, one hand clasped around a beer bottle while the other gestured furiously at the screen. Her raspy, giddy voice explaining some sports statistic as her arms waved around wildly, passionately after each word. Most times you barely understood what she was saying, but you enjoyed listening regardless. It was just so… so adorable. She was adorable. Especially when she was completely invested in something. It makes you smile just thinking about it.

Well it made you smile until you realize just how far your relationship with her has tumbled.

You sigh into the uncomfortable coldness of your sheets. Emotional infidelity is such an intangible construct. Ever since Ian left, you've been analyzing it more deeply, and you're still not quite certain how to define it. Is still caring about her emotional infidelity? Is still wanting to be near her emotional infidelity? How are you to know what divides being attracted to someone from being emotionally unfaithful? It was so confusing and frustrating and the complexity of it all only served to make you miss Ian more.

God, you miss Ian. You didn't think about all this stuff when Ian was here. He always brought about this sweet, easy feeling within you. A feeling that always seemed to warm away the uncertainty.

And now with him gone that warm, reassuring feeling is replaced with an uncomfortably cold one. All those tiny whispers of certainty are overtaken by the silence of your bedroom.

* * *

 ** _Day 2_**

There was a gorgeous woman at the station today. She was wearing this pretty black corset top and a rather striking pair of light green combat boots. Her hair fell just below her shoulders, and as she walked, her fingers twitched nervously at the manila folder clasped in her hands. You had just arrived upstairs, hoping to check up with Korsak about the healthy diet you'd recommended, but then you saw her. And you stopped. And you watched curiously as she was led kindly by another officer right to Detective Rizzoli's desk. As soon as Jane spotted her, she smiled tiredly, rising from her chair and accepting the manila folder from the shorter woman's hands.

 _"Thanks for bringing it, Ry. I owe you."_

 _"Don't mention it. I hadn't left for work yet anyway."_

It was a quick interaction, nothing really, but when she had gone, you remember hearing the teasing giggles from Korsak and Frost.

 _"Oooo who was that Janie?"_

 _"She can deliver my files any day."_

Jane had simply shaken her head in return, blushing furiously before sinking down in her chair. You figured it would probably be awkward to walk over there now, especially because Jane was at her desk. Besides, you were feeling slightly nauseous all of a sudden.

* * *

You hadn't gone to the BPD Division One Café in a very long time. Mostly because you'd only started going there because of Jane, and now, with her gone, it only served as a weird reminder of how much things have changed. Plus, Angela had always treated you so kindly, so affectionately that now, you feared she'd not hesitate to question you about your recent absence. Or worse, Jane could have already given her some half-truthful explanation for why you don't hang around anymore, and Angela might not be inclined to treat you so kindly or affectionately anymore. You couldn't take the thought of her resenting you…especially since some part of you looks at her as the mother figure you'd always wanted. You'd never told Jane this, but the overbearing behavior she despised, you found kind of sweet. It was sweeter than any sort of attention your own mother had shown you.

Today though, after seeing Jane with her visitor, you didn't think about that possible downsides of going to the cafe. You just wanted to be somewhere warmly familiar. And part of you kind of hoped Angela would be as sociable as she usually was.

So after a few hours into doing paperwork, you decide to take a break and go up to the café . The moment you arrive, the clicking of your heels signals your entrance, and Angela's head immediately turns her head in your direction. At the sight of you though, she doesn't smile and wave like you're used to her doing; this time she only furrows her brow and tightens her lips. You try to shake off the reaction. Maybe she's just a little shocked by your appearance after such a long absence. Maybe she's going to fuss at you little for never coming to visit. Maybe.

You get in line behind a couple of officers, hoping her "shock" will have worn off by the turn it's your turn to order. But by the time you make it up to the register, her furrowed brow has evolved into a full-blown glower.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" she says pointedly, and you almost flinch at the disapproving look in her eyes. Still though, you continue on with your order, trying to smile and be excessively convivial.

 _"You look nice today, Angela."_

 _"It's delightful weather today, isn't it?"_

But the woman doesn't budge; she just quietly makes your coffee before turning back toward you, a judgmental gleam in her eye. You know now with certainty that she is not happy with you, and that knowledge is enough to make your head bow. You feel something akin to a scolded child.

"Have I done something to upset you Angela?" You ask nervously. The older woman simply narrows her eyes at you before pushing a coffee in your direction. You stand there for a second longer, allowing her to stare you down before finally she tilts her head over to the side of the counter and you follow her there. The officers lined up behind you groan impatiently, but the Italian woman simply shoots them a glare before continuing on her way. You suppose Stanley isn't in today or else he'd probably have popped out of the back, fussing her back to work.

When the two of you are finally far away enough from the general public, she leans in close and begins to speak.

"What's going on with you and Jane?" she asks in the kind of no-nonsense tone you've heard her use with Jane more than a few times.

"Nothing, Angela…I mean, not nothing…but not something. Not much. I-I don't know. Why?" You stutter it out, feeling your hives itching at your skin a little. This is exactly what you had wanted to avoid. She eyes you suspiciously.

"Jane and I had a talk a few weeks ago," she stiffens a little after saying this, but her eyes don't leave yours.

"W-what kind of talk?" You ask a bit dumbly, still fairly caught off-guard by her inquisition.

"I'm gonna assume you can guess the kind, Dr. Isles-"

"I don't like to guess-"

"I didn't like the talk. It seems we all have to do things we're uncomfortable with," she interrupts reproachfully but then just as quickly, she shakes her head and sighs, "I just don't understand the two of you." You don't really know how to respond, so you just nod. You feel equally attacked and guilty, and you don't really know why. She simply eyes you closer and continues.

"When I was younger and two people liked each other, they just said it. Now, you gotta put on a whole circus performance, there're so many hoops to jump through," she says tiredly as if Jane and you are just squabbling children. Exhausting. "You make my Janie wound up enough to come storming into my living room crying and confessing," Angela shakes her head a little, sighing, "and then you just disappear. And Jane acts like nothing's happened."

By the time, she's finished, you're certain you look like a deer caught in headlights. Jane told her…everything? Like all of it?

"So I'm going to ask again, ," she interrupts your frantic thinking, "What happened between you and my daughter?"

"We—I don't...A lot," you finally sigh, nervously straightening your purse. Angela nods stiffly, still eying you disapprovingly.

"Aren't you engaged, ?"

Your eyes widen embarrassedly as a blush takes over your cheeks. "Yes…but Jane and I–We didn't do anything that was…not really anyway-" The shorter woman lifts her hand up, quieting your excuses before leaning even further over the countertop.

"I don't exactly know how far my baby's gotten with you, and I don't want to know. All I want to know is if you're just having fun with her or not." You flinch at the accusation.

"Of course not. Never," you say firmly. Angela just nods in return, scanning your face for a moment before leaning back and speaking again.

"Then until that ring isn't on your finger, leave her alone," she says with finality before turning away from you and going back to work. You stand in that same place shocked for a moment, before finally, dazedly walking out of the café.

* * *

 ** _Day 3_**

You're standing in the Dirty Robber parking lot.

Frost had come down to the morgue earlier to invite you out, off-handedly mentioning that Jane wouldn't be able to make it. Apparently she had some other engagements. You hadn't questioned him about the type of engagements, feeling as if it probably was inappropriate to ask now, all things considered. You doubt that Frost and Korsak know the true extent of your current situation with Jane, but you're certain they must have noticed that the two of you never are in the same room together for very long. Not to mention the fact that the two of you rarely speak anymore. It must have been as odd a change for them as it was for you now that you think. One month Jane and you are inseparable and the next, you two can barely look at each other.

It's late, but not late enough for the darkness to be overwhelming. The glow of the moon and the faint light shining from the bar is enough to illuminate two figures talking closely by the side of the building. It's a casual closeness…it's a closeness you wouldn't have paid much attention to hadn't it been for the familiarity of both women.

There, outlined in the soft shimmer of the moon, were Jane and that gorgeous woman from the other day, _Ry_. They're just talking at first; you can tell by Jane's gestures that she's nervous. Her hands are rubbing anxiously through her hair, and she's alternating between crossing her arms and pushing them straight down to her sides. The other woman is harder to read; she's just nodding, gesturing mildly every now and then. This interaction goes on a minute or two before the woman finally reaches out and grabs one of Jane's hands, bringing it tenderly to her lips before letting it drop.

You don't know why that simple gesture affects you as much as it does. It in itself is nothing… Meaningless …but the way she does it, the way she holds Jane's hand close to her chest for a moment before kissing it. The way she is looking up at the detective warmly. There's just something inexplicably intimate about it. Something so deliberate about the way Jane has sectioned herself off with this woman, the way she's so enraptured she doesn't even pay attention to her surroundings. She doesn't even notice that you're there. It's so odd and disconcerting. They shouldn't even be here, considering Jane told Frost explicitly that she wouldn't be coming. But you figure, since they've made it as far as the Dirty Robber parking lot, that the pair will probably be joining Korsak and Frost inside. You haven't been to any Dirty Robber gatherings since the night Jane asked you for space. She probably figured you wouldn't be showing up to this one either. Or maybe she hadn't even thought about you at all. Maybe she had decided to bring this woman to meet her friends whether you were there or not.

You sigh harshly into the cold darkness of the night watching as the pair begins walking toward the bar entrance, Ry knocking shoulders with Jane every now and then. You know you can't stay now. Not only for Jane's comfort but your own as well.

You just…you're not an idiot. You know Jane was with someone the day she confessed her love for you. You know there's someone else who has her affection…at least physically. And for some reason, being in close proximity to that person, to that someone else, it just makes you ache. It physically hurts. And right now, one hand pressed heavily against the hood of your car, your eyes blankly watching the door of the Dirty Robber close behind them, it feels like your heart is literally being slammed against your ribcage.

You don't get it.

With Casey, when Jane was with him, what you felt was obviously jealousy. It was hot and red and irrationally fierce. But it didn't hurt. Not really.

For some reason though, seeing Jane with someone now, some woman who she could actually be attracted to, who she could actually develop real romantic love for, it's just…it's painful.

You glance down at your car door for a moment before opening it and climbing back inside. You shut the door, pulling your phone from your purse and sending Frost a quick text saying you "won't be making it tonight."

* * *

The whole drive home you're in a daze.

And when you get inside of your house, you almost robotically start with your night routine. Numbly. Thoughtlessly. You go through the motions until you feel something wet drip against your skin. It takes you a moment or so before you realize it came from your eyes.

Tears.

At first, they come so slowly and negligibly that you wipe them away without even a second thought. You figure some part of you is still feeling the sadness of earlier, but most of you is just numb now. Well at least you think most of you is numb until somewhere between undressing and pulling out your sleeping garments, you realize that the tears are starting to come quickly and more persistently. That they're blurring your vision and dampening your negligee. That it's getting harder to breathe, and that even the murmur of sports statistics in the background can't seem to soothe you.

Jane is with someone else…really with someone.

Maybe

…Probably.

You're assuming, but you can't help it. What you're feeling isn't very logical. Jane isn't yours; you love Ian. You plan to be with Ian. But for some reason you can't stop crying. You can't stop thinking about that woman's lips pressed against her knuckles.

Oh god.

You let yourself fall against the edge of your mattress, the palms of your hands pressing against your face.

You have feelings for her.

Oh god, you feelings for Jane. Deep ones. Deeper than attraction. Far more.

"No," you shake your head at yourself, vainly wiping the tears from your eyes before standing up. You have feelings for Jane…okay. But feelings are nothing. They come, and they go; they are flimsy and fleeting and nothing. What you have for Ian is love. And love is more than a feeling. Love is a promise…love is a commitment. Love can be tested a decade and come out unscathed. And you're being tested; your love is being tested. You wipe your eyes again, sighing defiantly at your own heart. Jane is spending time with someone else, and that's…that's okay. That will have to be okay. Because even though you have feelings for Jane, painfully present feelings, you have that and more for Ian.

* * *

 ** _Day 4_**

You're walking into the police department, fully dressed and made up, purse dangling from your shoulder. The morning is still young. Really, really young. But you couldn't sleep after last night's realization, so after a couple of hours of tossing and turning, you came here instead. Nearly 2 hours earlier than you're required. There aren't a lot of other bodies shuffling around upstairs; just a few beat cops roaming about, a detective or two working furiously at their desks. The Department is a little bit of a ghost town at this hour, but you find yourself rather fond of it. There are no distractions, no noise, just the soft hums of sleeping computers and overworked coffee machines. It's relaxing which is more than welcome considering the tense atmosphere of your house.

You don't notice that she's here too until you're completely in the elevator pushing the button for the morgue. Her arm slips right in between the closing doors, stopping them just as they're about to shut. It's a dramatic sort of appearance, shocking enough to completely destroy your subdued state. The relaxing nature of the quiet department completely lost in her presence. Why is she here? In this elevator… with you? She must know you're here…or maybe she doesn't. Maybe she's just as shocked by the close proximity as you. You look up a little, catching her form sliding completely into the elevator. She's standing in front of you, humbly, her shoulders hanging as lowly as they've been all month. You half-expect yourself to bolt, but for some reason you don't. And surprisingly she doesn't either. She just stands there silently, swaying slightly, nervously. For a second, you wonder if she's just going to stay there, wordlessly facing you, until finally she runs a hand roughly through her hair and speaks.

"Is this uh…is this hard for you?" she asks quietly after a moment just as the elevator doors begin to close. You raise your head in shock at the question, meeting her eyes for the first time this week. You can't help but be surprised by the honest vulnerability you find there. The question is vague, but you know what she means by it; you know what she's asking.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsurely just before the metal doors seal completely. It's not as if you don't know the answer to her question; it's just you don't know if you should say it. You don't know if it's okay to do this with Jane anymore, to admit things like that to Jane anymore. But at the sound of your hesitancy, her eyes grow a little dimmer, and you can't really take the thought of making her any sadder than you already have. So you stop thinking about whether it's right or wrong and simply speak truthfully.

"Of course, it's hard for me, Jane," you say honestly, and she lets out a small sigh of relief as if some part of her had expected you to say no.

"Of course," you repeat reassuringly before immediately scolding yourself. You don't need to make this any harder than it already is. You don't know why Jane has suddenly decided to talk to you after making it clear that she doesn't want to see you anymore, but you can't let her sudden change of heart sway you from your goal. You love Ian. He loves you. You need prove to him that your connection with Jane isn't a threat, that you value him more than that.

"I-it's just…I don't know Maur," she says the nickname automatically before quickly correcting herself, "I mean Maura…I mean Dr. Isles. I mean, god this is so– Ugh!" She groans just in time for the elevator doors to ding open. But before you can even begin to move, she quickly pushes the button for the parking garage level, and you resign yourself to the fact that she hasn't said nearly everything she wants you to hear.

Besides part of you, a large part of you, doesn't want this conversation to end either. You're not quite ready to go back to pretending she doesn't exist, to pretending you don't still care for her. So you wait silently, patiently as the elevator doors close again, giving the two of you a fleeting sense of privacy. It takes her a moment or two to start speaking again. Her voice calmed to a low, tired rasp.

"Why does this feel so final?" she asks quietly, holding your eyes briefly before looking away and shoving her hands in her pockets. You want to ask her to explain, but before you can, she starts talking again. "I mean we fight all the time Maura. You and me, we uh…we fight, we argue. We don't talk to each other for days, for weeks. I mean, I've gone months on passing glances and over-dead-body talks, you know. But even then, it never felt final. It never feels final, not really. Even that stunt you pulled when I was with Casey."

You blush heavily at her mention of that, but she only rolls her eyes, smirking briefly at your embarrassment before her face turns somber again. "Even after that, it never really felt final. I don't know Maura…I never actually believed it would be. But this…this feels …It feels like an ending."

She lets out a sad, low chuckle, waiting for a moment before running one hand roughly through her hair. "This is stupid, isn't it?" Her shakes her head at herself, kicking her shoe against the hard, metal floor of the elevator car "Ry told me not to do this. You made your choice, right. I gotta respect it. I'm respecting it." She mutters out loud, but it feels as if it's more to herself than to you. The mention of _Ry_ doesn't escape your hearing. Your pulse quickens a little at that name, and something in you just wants to ask about her. You want to know who she is. You want to know how she met Jane, what they talk about. What they've done. What they plan to do…but you stop the words before they can come out because you're certain that that is no longer your place.

Maybe it never really was.

"Jane, I-" You try to speK, but you're interrupted by the elevator doors dinging open again, this time to the almost abandoned parking garage. Instead of clicking another button though, Jane just stands in the entranceway of the elevator, keeping the doors from shutting again. She nods after a moment of silence, signaling for you to continue.

"It's not stupid," you sigh after a second or two, gathering your words, "None of this is stupid." She looks at you, a mixture hope and fear somehow melding into her expression. "Ian left four days ago," you say quietly, watching as her eyes widen dramatically at your words, "He left four days ago after I told him the extent of…us. He told me that in a week I could call him back if I was sure I wanted to be with him."

Jane stands slack-jawed for a moment before stuttering out, "Y-You told him?"

You just nod in affirmation, but after a minute or so, she begins eying you disbelievingly. "What _exactly_ did you tell him?"

You can't help but roll your eyes at this, slightly offended. "What do you mean what _exactly_ did I tell him? I told him the truth."

She huffs a little in return before muttering lowly, "The real truth or the Maura truth?"

"I heard that!" you respond quickly before shaking your head at yourself for getting off track. "Whatever. What I'm trying to tell you is that Ian revealed something to me that I hadn't really considered before."

Jane tilts her head curiously. "And what would that be?"

"What we have," you clear your throat quickly before correcting yourself, "what we had… it wasn't entirely one-sided. Even before I kissed you… it was–I was unfaithful."

Jane quirks one eyebrow but remains silent, and you take that as a signal to continue. "I realize now that a lot of the things I did with you were not wholly innocent… at least not in retrospect-"

"So what are you saying? You led me on purposely?" Jane questions a little angrily, but you quickly shake your head, reaching out your hand to calm her.

"No, I'm saying that I have feelings for you, Jane…beyond attraction." You see the brunette's expression immediately soften, and she releases this harsh breath as if just punched in the gut, "…I didn't notice them at first or maybe I didn't want to notice. I don't know. But they're there."

You see a shiver run through her body at your words, and you can't stop yourself from moving closer, from reaching out to hold her hands. Surprisingly, she lets you. Her eyes are so intense, swirling with a mixture of want and sadness, of passion and love.

God, she still loves you. Even after watching you wait for someone else, kiss someone else, long for someone else. Be with someone else. She still wants you. She still loves you. And you realize now just how truly awful this whole situation is, just how truly awful it must have been for Jane all this time.

"I should have never let it get as far as it did," you say after moment of looking at her and thinking, "I mean, we were practically living together for a short while, weren't we?" Jane chuckles bitter-sweetly at that before shrugging and squeezing your hand. "I-I don't know, Jane… I think, maybe some part of me…wanted it to get as far as it did. Some part of me wanted to have you, to be with you…and that was wrong. I was wrong."

Jane shakes her head immediately at your words before trying to pull you closer, but you stand your ground, pushing your hand gently against her chest. This always happens, and you always let it. You admit a wrong and Jane hugs you and coddles you, and both of you get lost in the moment, in each other. Neither of you facing the huge fault in your relationship. Neither of you acknowledging the gigantic elephant in the room.

"Jane, I'm engaged," you say quietly but firmly, and Jane flinches at your words. But you don't stop. You know this has to be said. "I'm engaged to a man whom I love."

"I know," Jane scoffs, trying to turn her face away from you, but you simply catch it in your hands before turning it back. She needs to hear this, and you need to say it. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Jane–No, I _refuse_ to hurt you anymore, and this Jane," you place your hand over her chest, "is hurting you. Our relationship, our friendship is hurting you."

She shakes her head quickly, bringing one scarred hand up to cup your cheek gently. "It doesn't have to hurt Maura. None of this has to hurt." she whispers out, her free hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair tenderly behind your ear. "Just…Just" _Choose me._

She doesn't say it, but you hear it nonetheless. You hear it in her eyes, in her touch, a subtle desperation, a quiet, hungry longing. And your heart just shatters into tiny pieces.

"Jane," you whisper back after a moment, "you know I can't."

She nods blankly, staying close to you for a minute more before finally pulling away. One of her hands reaches over to hit a button on the control panel as she takes two steps back out of the elevator, out of reach. She stands there for a second as the doors start to close before looking at you one last time. Smoothly, wordlessly she turns away and begins walking. You want to call out to her; you want to apologize and explain and comfort. But you know that isn't what she wants. And you know that isn't what she needs.

So you don't. You just watch her walk away, figure fading just as the metal doors shut completely.


	13. Chapter 13 PART 1

**_NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, GOT TOO LONG. I SPLIT INTO TWO. CHAPTER 13 PART 2 WILL BE UP SOON. REVIEW. THANKS_**

* * *

 ** _Day 5_**

You can't sleep.

You can't eat.

All you can do is think about Jane.

And Ian.

And how annoyingly confused you are about both of them.

You press your face heavily into the pillow before resigning all hope of getting any more sleep than the little you've gotten. After a few moments, you finally get out of bed before moving quickly through the motions of showering, brushing your teeth, and getting dressed. Then after you're presentable enough you head directly out to the Department. If you can't sleep, then you'll work. Because the best way to forget about your problems is to throw yourself into your craft.

You spend the entire day either bent over a corpse or translating medical jargon. You work so diligently and purposefully that by the end of the day you've done three autopsies and completed almost all of your paperwork. Still though, when you make it back home the only thing you can really think about is Jane.

And Ian.

And how much you want both of them to be a part of your life.

And how much you know that that will never happen rightfully.

* * *

 ** _Day 6_**

Today, you planned to work yourself tired. You wanted to bury yourself in microscopic DNA and piles of paperwork. You wanted to drown in the technicalities of autopsy reports and Tox screens. Lose yourself to the cases running steadily through your office. Anything really to distract from your personal life. but just when you think you've completed a day devoid of any of the complications of your dramatic love life, Korsak invites you out to the Dirty Robber. He stops you just as you are getting into the elevator and basically pleads for you to come. He has "big" news, he says, and he doesn't want to share it with the gang if you aren't there. He gives you a sweet little spiel about missing your scientific factoids and health nut rants, and despite your best efforts to resist the invitation, his kind, charming smile and genuine thoughtfulness is more than you can stand. You are certain Jane will be there especially since it is news that Korsak is making sure the _entire_ gang will hear. But you figure maybe Jane and you can bear the awkwardness between the two of you for one night especially for Vince. So you agree, smiling as best you can to hide the nerves jittering under your skin.

* * *

The whole ride to the bar you can't stop thinking about Jane. You can't stop thinking about how unbelievably uncomfortable this will be for her, how upset she'll be when you arrive.

But when you walk in, your eyes immediately finding the beautiful detective, you don't see her face dim with sadness or anger upon seeing you; in fact she doesn't even notice your arrival at all.

Because sitting there beside Jane, capturing all of her attention is the gorgeous woman who delivered her files the other day. Sitting beside her is _Ry_.

The twisting in your gut when you see the other woman is almost unbearable, but you can't do much about it because by the time you notice the shorter brunette, Korsak's happy voice is already presenting you to the table.

"Guess who's here, guys! I caught her just as she was leaving the Department."

"Maura!" Frost grins happily, getting up from the table to give you a welcoming hug before sitting back down and making room for you on the booth seat. "We've been trying to get you here all week." You look over at Jane briefly only to find her staring silently into her drink. The pretty woman beside her, though, has eyes only for you.

"So this is the Dr. Isles I've been hearing so much about?" the woman smiles pleasantly, but there's something in her tone. It's not quite intimidating, but it's not very friendly either.

"I'm afraid so," you reply kindly enough, glancing over again at Jane whose still looking down into her glass. You can't help but notice how nicely the pair looks side by side. Jane in her dark blue jeans and Property of BPD t-shirt. And Riley in her low-falling V-neck and combat boots. They look like the kind of couple that could walk hand in hand down the boulevard and not seem even a little out of place.

You wonder if Jane and you have ever looked like that.

You wonder if on some morning jog a passerby saw the two of you together and thought "What a beautiful couple."

"I'm Riley Cooper," the woman interrupts your train of thought, reaching out her hand for you to shake. You take it easily; your mouth moving over the name again. _Riley Cooper_. "I'm a friend of Jane's. I don't know if she's told you about me."

Jane's head pops up at this, and she looks over to Riley curiously, but the shorter brunette's gaze stays locked on you.

"Uh," you pause unsurely, trying to gauge what exactly Jane wants you to say, but the detective is still trying to catch the attention of her companion, "she's mentioned you." You finish lamely because in all honesty Jane's never really brought her up to you. She's never really had a reason to. Besides…you have a feeling Jane's relationship with Riley is not a situation she really wanted to tell you about.

"Yeah, Riley's a new friend. Haven't really had much opportunity to tell you about her," she interjects awkwardly, and for a moment you swear she looks guilty. But Riley only turns her head and smiles at Jane before reaching over and patting her cheek sweetly. Your eyes widen at the intimate little gesture and you glance over to Korsak and Frost who seem to be mostly unfazed by it. Apparently this isn't uncommon behavior for the pair.

"It's fine," Riley says to Jane, before turning her head back toward you and smiling. It's a cocky little smile, and you wonder if she knows how uncomfortable you are watching her touch Jane. You narrow your eyes a little bit before shaking your head and warning yourself. You need to keep a level-head and just make it through the night for Korsak. Be friendly.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" you ask partially just to fill the quiet and partially because you're genuinely curious.

"Here actually. We started talking and I don't know…Jane and I just kind of _clicked_ I guess." Riley says it innocently enough, but the smirk she gives you afterwards is anything but.

You furrow your brow in confusion. It feels kind of like she's teasing you. She must know some of the things that happened between Jane and you. She must have some grasp on the situation. But for some reason, the look she's giving you resembles that of a victorious child. She's taunting you. You narrow your eyes at her, clearing your throat. And she only licks her lips quickly before leaning back against the booth.

"We had an instant connection," she reiterates, smirking even wider at you. She's slept Jane. You already knew that. You know you already knew that. But something about her hinting at it, something about the proud little lilt in her tone, it just makes your blood boil.

You really dislike this woman.

"I'm sure you did," you click your tongue, your eyes steely holding her gaze. Jane looks in between the two of you uncomfortably before finally clearing her throat

"Um yeah, anyways..." she coughs awkwardly, glancing over to Frost for help but the man simply shrugs at a lost. Luckily though, Korsak has been so oblivious to the tension between Riley and you, that he doesn't even hesitate to start talking.

"So guys," everyone at the table turns their attention to him. Jane and Frost breathing a sigh of relief. "I was gonna wait to tell everyone until I was sure but um," he pauses for a moment looking nervously excited, "I think this is a good enough time as any…I'm thinking about proposing to Melody…Again."

"About time!" Frost says immediately raising up his beer bottle before patting Korsak approvingly on the shoulder. The rest of the gang joins in congratulating him, the uncomfortable mood on the conversation almost forgotten. Almost until Korsak makes an innocent, almost throwaway comment.

"It's been a long, long while since I've been somebody's fiancé. I hope I don't mess it up this time around." Korsak shakes his head in thought before smiling and tilting his head toward you, "Maybe you can give me some tips, Dr. Isles. You're engaged, aren't you?"

You look nervously at Jane …you know this is the last thing she wants to hear about. Especially after what happened two days ago. "Um yes," you answer hesitantly, "But I don't know how much help I can be—"

"Oh, of course you can help, Dr. Isles," Riley interjects, leaning forward against the tabletop and propping herself up against her elbows, "Jane's told me you've been with your fiancé for more than 10 years. It must be hard being with only one person _all_ that time." She smiles, running her tongue over her teeth, and Jane chokes on her beer. You look over to the detective your eyes wide with embarrassment and surprise, but Jane simply looks as shocked as you.

"I-It's not that hard…" you respond lamely, and Korsak chuckles.

"I thought that too, and then I got divorced…Three times."

The table bursts into agreeable laughter. And Jane quickly moves the subject back to Korsak, asking when he had decided and when he was going to ask.

And the night goes on like that for an hour or so. Everyone drinking and laughing and talking, interposed by Riley's subtle little jabs. You see Jane discreetly elbow her every now and then in warning, but each time the shorter brunette only shrugs and continues. After a while or so, Jane excuses herself from the table, and you see it as your chance to talk the detective alone and ask her kindly to tell her "friend" to stop with the comments. So you wait a few minutes after Jane leaves then as unsuspiciously as you can manage you also excuse yourself from the table. When you don't spot her by the bar you look around for her a bit before finally finding her in the bathroom, bent over the counter. You can tell she's straining against the marble top because the muscles in her arms are pulsing beautifully under her skin.

"Jane," you call out, and she lifts her head and looks at you through the mirror. "We need to talk."

"Not really," she responds almost instantly turning on the faucet and cupping her hand under the running water. You roll your eyes, watching as she splashes her face with water before drying it with the palm of her hand. After a moment of standing in silence, you realize she really isn't going to give you a real response. So you walk close enough to rest your hand briefly on her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"I'm serious, Jane. Your girlfrien-"

"She's not my girlfriend," Jane interrupts you quickly. And you roll your eyes.

"Well, your date-"

"We're not dating," Jane cuts in again, this time looking at you blankly through the mirror. You eye her curiously now, a little confused by her words. You had figured—daresay assumed— that she was at least dating Riley in some sort of fashion. Maybe in a way that Korsak and Frost weren't aware of; it was the only explanation for why the woman would act so territorial.

"Then who is she to you?" you finally ask confusedly, but Jane only chuckles a little in return before shaking her head and turning the faucet off.

"For an engaged person, you sure care a lot about who I might or might not be seeing."

You blush a bit embarrassedly before jutting your chin up defiantly. "I'm just trying to understand why someone you aren't even dating has such an aversion toward me."

"Maybe she just doesn't like you," Jane shrugs, but after a minute of you leveling her with a glare, she finally sighs in surrender.

"Fine," she says, turning to face you, "Ry and me—we talk about you, sometimes…afterwards…and it's not always good things."

"Afterwards?" You furrow your brow at her vague wording for a second or two before finally understanding what she's hinting at. Your chest aches painfully.

"Ah, I see," you say uncomfortably after a moment, eying her accusingly even though you don't really have a reason to.

"So Riley wasn't exaggerating when she said the two of you _clicked_ the first night, hm?" you ask it before you can stop yourself, your jealousy peeking out without your permission. Jane simply rolls her eyes before leaning against the countertop.

"Don't start."

"I'm not starting-"

"Yes you are," she interrupts, eying you knowingly, but you simply shrug off the look before turning toward the mirror.

"I just never considered you one for casual partners," you try to say it nonchalantly, but the snip in your voice gives you away. You turn your eyes down toward your hands resting against the sink, attempting to occupy your attention with something else other than the shrewd little look Jane is giving you. There's a moment of silence where you're waiting for Jane's snarky reply to come, but it never does. Only the sound of footsteps. Little squeaks of rubber against tile twisting beside you. You raise your head only to find Jane's towering form now directly behind you

"What did you consider me for, then?" she asks lowly, and you almost shiver at how incredibly sexy her voice sounds at that level. That sweetly deep rasp.

"I-I don't know, Jane. Just not…that," you respond, the last part coming out a little pointedly before you quickly shake your head at yourself. You need to hold your composure; this is not what you came to talk about. You look away from her intense gaze and back to the dingy porcelain sink. "It doesn't matter anyway. If you want to have frivolous relations, you can very well have them."

At this she moves a little closer to you, and you almost feel like a cornered animal. Your pulse is quickening, a transparent layer of sweat forming on your brow. You need to get out of here. Out of this restroom. Out of this bar.

"Would you have liked it better if I asked her on a date first?" she asks deeply, teasingly condescending. And you're starting to realize that this moment is going downhill at an alarming rate. "Would that make you feel better about me fucking her?" the comment is rumbled lowly into your ear, and your body turns around quicker than your mind can tell it not to. Jane's provoking you; you know it. You can feel it. But that doesn't make you any less susceptible.

"You're being vulgar," you almost snarl.

"Am I?" she asks mockingly, placing her hands on your hips but you push them away harshly, "I'm just asking you a question, Maura. If she was my girlfriend, could I sleep with her then? Would I have your permission?" You try to turn away from her, but her palms come up to grip your shoulders.

"Don't touch me," you growl, pushing her hands away, but she simply moves them to your hips before pulling you into her roughly. You gasp loudly when you feel her body slam into yours.

"What Maura? Am I only allowed to touch you when Ian is halfway around the world? Is that it?" At that comment, your eyes flick up to hers, and there, swirling in those brown orbs, is a mixture of frustrated anger and unadulterated want. You move your hands up, pressing them against her shoulders, trying to put distance in between the two of you, but she only budges a bit before redoubling her hold and lifting one hand up to rest against the back of your neck, pulling you forward. You feel her lips press surprisingly softly against your ear.

"I'm tired of the games, Maura," she growls and you're hyperaware of her puffs of breaths beating against your neck. Of her toned body pressed against yours. "You don't get to be upset. You don't even get to be jealous. Because you know if you wanted me," she pauses pulling back just enough to let her lips hover painfully over yours, "if you wanted me, you could have me." You almost whimper at her words, at her tone. She just says them so honestly, so rawly, that you have no choice but to take them as truth. "Now the only question is," she speaks again, her voice much softer now, "what do you want?"

She lets the hand cupping the back of your neck move up to gently wrap itself in your hair. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. You keep trying to remind yourself of Ian, of how disappointed he would be in you, but all those guilty thoughts are quickly being overtaken by the uncontrollable feeling of want. You _want_ Jane so badly you physically have to clench your fists against her shirt to keep from pulling her closer. And the look in her eyes, the deep, fiery pining look is doing nothing for your resistance.

"I'm engage-"

"That's not what I asked," she interrupts quickly, and you wonder where all this confidence came from. You wonder how far you must've pushed her, how frustrated she must've been to make her this courageous. To make her this bold. "What do you," she pauses for a moment, pulling you close enough that your forehead is pressed against hers, the tips of your noses bumping desperately, "want." By the time she finishes your eyes are already shut tight and your head is moving of its own volition. Craning up desperately to touch her lips with yours. And when they find them. It's a desperately hot sort of contact, her tongue sliding instantly into your mouth as the hand still wound in your hair pushes you forward. It's so excessively sexy. You've never been kissed by anyone like this before. Ian. Garrett. Jack. None of them have ever kissed you so passionately. Before you can even think about pushing her to stop, one of your hands moves to her neck and pulls her impossibly closer.

"God," you moan into her mouth when you feel her tug at your hair roughly. You can sense yourself getting worked up, wetness pooling between your legs, but that doesn't stop you. That doesn't remind you of how far you've crossed the line. All it really does is make you want Jane even more. All it really does is get you so invested in pulling her leg between yours and pushing your tongue into her mouth, that you don't even notice that someone has opened the door and slid in until said person clears her throat loudly.

You quickly tear your lips away from Jane's to look over and find Riley standing by the restroom entrance, her arms crossed tightly.

"So this is where you two disappeared to," she hums. Her voice is teasing, almost playful, but underneath, you can hear something else. You can hear hurt. Jane must have heard it to, because almost instantly she pulls away from you and turns to face the woman, a guilty look tugging at her features. "I mean, a public restroom is not really what I'd call romantic scenery, but I guess, you can make the magic happen anywhere, can't you ?"

* * *

 _ **NOT LAST CHAPTER.**_

 _ **I MUST STRESS. SORRY THAT IT IS NOT. GOT TOO LONG. HAD TO SPLIT. I WON'T SAY THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE LAST (EVEN THOUGH IT PROBABLY WILL BE) BECAUSE I'M AFRAID OF HAVING TO PUSH IT BACK. I JUST EDITTED AND MADE THIS SCENE SUPER LONG.**_


	14. Final Chapter

**An: Final Chapter here guys.**

 **This time it's legit. I was thinking about doing an** ** _epilogue type sequel_** **that takes place years after this, but I figured with the frustration this story has caused a lot of you wouldn't want that lol. Plus, I like this ending. I've wanted this ending for a while now I've jut been unsure. Anywho comment. This is the final chapter, wanna hear from everyone about the Epilogue-sequel idea and also if you guys liked the chapter. Thanks for sticking in here with me guys; it's been a magical ride.**

* * *

You start to feel guilt and anger thrum inside your chest. Part of you knows you just messed up big time, and the other part of you is just so angry that Riley, some woman Jane hooked up with once or twice (at least that's how many times you tell yourself she did), is the one pointing it out.

"This has nothing to do with you!"

She scoffs loudly, waving a hand about dismissively. "Whatever. Someone has to care for Jane, and obviously it isn't going to be you."

You try to say something more, your heart still pumping with adrenaline, but before you can, Jane places her arm across your chest, stilling you and your onslaught of words.

"Don't talk to her like that, Ry.I get it; you're mad. But don't talk to her like that."

She commands it so steely, so seriously that you almost feel like swooning. She didn't do this at the table, and you wonder if it was because she didn't want the audience of Korsak and Frost. Or if Riley's implication that you didn't care for her just set Jane off. Either way, her defensive attitude makes you want hug her closely, if only for a moment. But you shake off that impulse quickly because this is neither the time nor the place. And she and you have already broken enough rules tonight. You see an unreadable look rush quickly across Riley's face at Jane's words before she simply turns her gaze to you and hmphs. Her indignance angers you even more than her interruption.

"What is your issue with me, Riley? Really? I'm a complete stranger." You question, pressing forward into Jane's arm.

She laughs loudly at you as if your question is the funniest thing she's ever heard.

"Well, first you're engaged," she pauses looking at Jane who you feel shuffle uncomfortably as if she'd almost forgotten that detail, "And despite that fact, you're still making out Jane. Speaking of which," she turns her gaze from you to the detective at your side, "Jay, what are you doing?"

The words come out short and exasperated, almost as if she's said them to Jane a million times before.

"Just stay out of it, Riley. I'm handling it," Jane responds hastily, running a hand roughly through her hair before glancing over at you. Riley shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Okay, Jane, say I leave and you two continue to _handle_ it on the counter. Maybe even a couple of times in the stalls," the shorter brunette begins, sharp derision on her tongue " What happens after that, Jay?" She pauses, and you start to realize you don't really know what happens after this. Your feelings for Jane are getting out of hand, and this break from Ian is doing more to confuse things than to clarify them. But does that mean you're going to leave him for her? Does that mean you're going to just ignore a decade of relationship, of history, of love?

"I'll tell you what's going to happen, Jay," Riley sighs, "She's gonna leave and go back home… to her _fiancé_."

Jane stiffens immediately, and you want to say something to the other woman. You want her to stop talking, to stop popping the happy, thoughtless bubble of passion Jane and you have created. But before you can talk, Jane moves in front of you again, blocking your view of Riley with her face. Her hands come up to cup your cheeks gently, but the desire in her eyes is all but burnt out. All that's left is sad surrender.

"Do you love me?" Jane asks you quietly, her eyes full of this desperate sort of hope, "Because I love you, and I can't stay away from you. And what happened just now made it feel like maybe you can't stay away from me either. That maybe…maybe you're in love with me too."

You can feel your heart pulsating with this oddly dreadful yet pleasant feeling. Love is so strange, isn't it?

"Do you love me, Maura?" she asks you again, her thumb rubbing gently against your cheek. You don't say anything. This whole situation went from passionate tongue battling to life-changing decision time in a second flat. And make no mistake; that is what this is…a life-changing decision. Maybe not the love itself, but the admittance of it…the acceptance.

It is a choice. You choose to be in love with someone, you agree to surrender yourself to that person, and once you do, well it is almost impossible to truly belong to anyone else. And the weight of that choice is almost unbearable for you. It is too much.

So when she looks into your eyes, urging you to answer, you can't bring yourself to say no. But you also can't bring yourself to say yes.

All you can really do is stare at her, eyes wide in indecision.

And maybe that indecision is choice enough for Jane because she turns around and walks out of the restroom, not even acknowledging Riley on the way out.

You expect the other brunette to go running after Jane, desperate to pick up the pieces, but to your surprise Riley doesn't immediately follow Jane. She just stands there, staring at you in judgment

"What do you get out of this?" she asks simply after a moment, her arms still crossed beside the door. You only glare at her before straightening out your blouse a little. She doesn't let up though; she just keeps her eyes locked on you. "I'm serious…what do you get out of this?"

"Get out of what?" you huff, wishing she would just go. Wishing she would just let you sulk in silence.

"Breaking her heart?"she asks softly, her eyes peering into yours inquisitively. And you realize she's asking the question genuinely

"I never wanted to break her heart," you answer back in frustration, "I never wanted to hurt Jane." She stares at you a moment, nodding silently before finally speaking again.

"Then let her be happy," she says, "Stop coming around and reminding her that she loves you."

Let her be happy with you, you mean?" you respond back sharply before you can stop yourself. You're certain she has some other motive other than Jane's happiness, and honestly, you don't want to be reminded that after you go, she'll slip right in.

She simply shrugs at you. "We haven't known each other that long, but if she ends up happy with me, who cares? As long as she ends up happy right?...or is that too selfless a concept for you?" Her tone is blank, but the biting words are hard to miss. You grit your teeth a little at the woman.

"Jane and I work together; we have mutual friends. It is almost impossible for me to 'stop coming around' as you put it."

"I don't think you want there to be a way," she retorts, "I think you want to keep stringing her along, so you can have a cuddle buddy when your fiance's away."

"Did she tell you that?" you ask sharply, offended. You wonder just how much Jane's shared with this woman. You wonder how much she knows about your life. "I'm not sure what Jane's told you or what Jane believes, but my feelings for her are far more than tha-"

"But it's not love!" Riley almost snaps, her anger appearing briefly before she quickly replaces it with calm indignance. When she speaks again her voice is low and stern as if she's speaking to some insolent child. "It's attraction; it's desire. It's fondness. And that's nice, but it's not love. And even if it were love, it's a shitty, horrible love. It's a selfish, vindictive, manipulative love. And Jane doesn't know it, but she deserves more than that. She deserves more than the crumby, piece of shit love you have to offer."

You stand stunned by her harsh words, staring at the other woman speechless as she turns smoothly and walks out of the restroom.

By the time you garner the courage to come out of the restroom too, the pair is already gone. Frost and Korsak are staring at you, wide-eyed and curious, and you wonder what show the two women must have put on upon leaving to make them look so baffled.

"Is everything okay, Maura?" Frost finally asks, and the sympathetic look he's giving you makes you feel as if he's a lot more aware of the situation than Korsak probably is. You wonder if Jane has told him. But before you can think about that possibility too thoroughly, the exhaustion of the situation settles into your bones and all you want to do is go home and cry.

"I'm just tired," you start, reaching for your purse which is still sitting on the edge of the booth seat. When Korsak realizes what you're about to do, his eyes widen and a disappointed expression takes over his features.

"Don't tell me you're leaving too."

You look at him guiltily, but Frost rests a hand on the man's shoulder and saves you the discomfort of responding. "Hey, we can celebrate together old man. It'll be like a practice bachelor party." The older man chuckles lightly and Frost glances over at you before saying,

"We'll see you tomorrow, Maura."

* * *

 ** _Day 7_**

It's not really day 7. It's more like a late, late Day 6. But it's 1 o'clock, so you regard it as Day 7 even though the sleepless night of Day 6 still lingers. You know Ian is expecting your call. He probably expected it at 12, He probably expected you to come running back to him, crying in relief that he was still there to run too.

You sigh hard. When did you start regarding Ian so lowly? Is it some sort of subconscious defense mechanism, so you can protect yourself from dealing with the true guilt of what you've done? Are the kind of person that cheats on someone else and then blames your behavior one the person you've hurt?

God, you hope not. But the way your mind has been working lately it sure seems like it.

You think about Jane more than Ian. At least these 7 days you've thought about Jane more. Maybe it's because you've seen her more; she's always within arms' reach, always there. Whereas Ian…well Ian always feels like a country away. But you figure distance shouldn't matter to the heart. The heart doesn't understand miles or times or really any human construct; it feels without bias. It loves without reason. And if Jane ran away tomorrow to a different country, to a different continent, you'd think about her the same. Maybe more.

Why not Ian?

Maybe it's because you've been numbed to his absence. His departures are more normal than his arrivals; you see him as a permanent fixture in your life. Like the sun or the moon. He disappears sometimes, out of sight, out of your world completely, but you always have faith he will return. You always know he will once again adorn the corner of your sky.

Jane's presence in your life used to be comparable to that of a security blanket's. She was always there, for warmth, for company, to wrap yourself in when the stillness of the night became too much. She was yours, and maybe not rightfully so...maybe not under the appropriate circumstances. But in a way, for the short amount of time when Ian wasn't home, she was yours. And you realize now, you were kind of hers too.  
You realize now that you haven't been fighting some fiery, passionate attraction. You haven't even been fighting a feeling.

What you've been fighting against is love. Deep, undeniable love. And your heart, god your heart wants her so badly that being away from her now, it hurts. It is painful. In that dingy little restroom, you discovered something so incredibly obvious that you'd ignored it for almost a year.

You love Jane Rizzoli. You are _in love_ with Jane Rizzoli

Yet still, you hear Riley's words ringing in your ear.

 _"It's a shitty, horrible love. It's a selfish, vindictive, manipulative love. And Jane doesn't know it, but she deserves more than that."_

You can hear her voice berating you, criticizing you.

And part of you can't help but feel even with your hatred of this woman, that maybe she is right.

You were nothing but selfish and manipulative in the beginning. And maybe you weren't exactly conscious of it, maybe all the acts were kind of impulsive and stupid. But you hurt Jane. You hurt so badly she broke down in front of her own mother, the same mother she's been hiding her feelings from for a very, very long time.

And look how you've treated Ian. He's basically given his life up for you, and a big part of your mind still just wants to toss him aside.

Is that really the kind of a person you are?

 _"She deserves more than the crumby, piece of shit love you have to offer."_

"Ugh!" You groan, reaching over to pick up your phone from the nightstand. You should call Ian. You loved him once right…you still do in a way right?

But no matter how much you tell yourself that there's still a chance, you can't pick up the phone. You can't dial the number.

* * *

 _Jane's POV_

Getting your heart broken is just like getting a limb cracked in half. Except with a limb, you go to a doctor, you get it braced, you let it heal. With a heart, you have to fix it yourself, you have to brace it even as it beats furiously against the cast. Even as it longs to get out. You want so badly for something and unlike other limbs which ache and burn in their broken state, which beg for you to stop, your heart…your heart eggs you on. Your heart can be ripped from your chest and still find the power to beat a little longer. Because your heart knows no reason. Your heart knows no boundary. It loves without limitations even when its tiny form cannot bear to do so.

You're so tired of your heart.

You're off today, so you decide to stay in and sulk quietly in front of the television. You've probably spent the entire day like this, your phone turned off and somewhere in a drawer. Riley kept trying to apologize last night, explaining why she acted the way she did. But honestly you didn't feel like dealing with that drama, so you just told her you wanted to be alone. It isn't until late, late into the evening that you hear a knock on the door. It's light and tentative, and a big part of you hopes it's a certain blonde. But when you open the door, it's Riley, standing there nervously.

"I just wanted to really apologize, Jay…I don't want you to be all pissed at me."

You want to roll your eyes a little, but Riley isn't being mean. Or vindictive.

She's just showing she genuinely cares about you unlike some people in your life. Lately, she's really been there for you even as you annoyingly fixated on some other woman. The least you could do is not treat her like some irritating pest. It's not fair. And being in the situation you are with Maura, you completely know how she feels.

"It's okay, Ry," you say finally, stepping to the side so she can enter.

Maura's POV

It's getting late. Time is running out. Work was rough today; you were too focused on not focusing on Jane. And Ian.

But mostly Jane.

Because you're in love with her.

And now you can't go back to not being in love with her.

You grip your phone tighter in your hand. You've been hovering over the call button for 15 minutes now ever since you finally got home. But you don't want to call. You don't want to be reminded of how much Ian means to you, and how long he's been there for you.

Because you're in love with Jane.

And you want to run to Jane. You want to burst through the doors of her apartment and say the words that have been pulsating in the pit of your stomach since yesterday.

 _I love you_

 _I love you_

 _I love you_

 _I am in love with you_

It's desire versus reason. It's control versus nature. Your heart wants Jane, at least the crazy, passionate part. But your mind doesn't think you should have her. Because if you do have her, you'll break Ian; you'll lose all you've built with him. And with the pattern you've developed with love, you'd probably just end up breaking Jane too.

You keep reminding yourself of this. Riley's words somewhere in the back of your head.

 _"Let her be happy. Stop coming around and reminding her that she loves you."_

You can hear her voice you swear, but still some part of you is screaming that maybe you can make her happy too. Maybe she can be happy with you.

So before you can think it out too thoroughly, you just grab your keys and go.

* * *

You quickly park on the curb of her house, fly out of the car, and trod up the steps to her apartment.

You're ready to knock on the door. You're ready to tell her. To be with her.

But then you hear a faint sound float out from inside the room. Well several faint sounds actually. There's the unmistakable buzz of a television set, but then, right behind it…between some commercials for car insurance and breakfast cereals there's her voice. Jane's…and someone else's. Someone who has a heavy but distinctly different rasp. Somebody who's laughing. Whose laughter is tangling with Jane's so effortlessly it almost makes you want to weep.

She sounds happy.

So happy. Which is odd because recently, every time you see her, she seems so…unhappy. It isn't until you hear her laugh slipping under the door that you realize how rarely you've heard it lately. Her loud, scratchy laugh. You've missed it…you've missed her. This her. Happy her. And now, now with you gone; now with you virtually out of the picture, she's laughing. She's better. She's happy.

You wonder if you could ever make her that happy.

When all the theatrics and the declarations of love and the hand-holding and first dates are over. When your novelty runs out, when the chase is done, when she has solidified you as hers. You wonder if she will still be happy with you. You wonder if she will still love you.

Ian would… Ian has.

Ian's given you a second chance, and all you can do is selfishly think about this dream. This dream of Jane. Of some woman you haven't even known for a year. Of some woman you forced into spending time with you. You're choosing her over a man who has loved you for more than a decade. You're choosing her over a man who has given up everything for you. You loved him once, right? You did. You must have. But your mind won't stop thinking about Jane. Your heart won't leave her alone.

 _"Maura I am so unbelievably in love with you."_

The adoration you have for her; it is overwhelming you. Controlling you. Because now, now that you've been forced to confront it, to see it, you can't seem to look away. You can't seem to ignore it. Every bone in your body is aching for her, is urging you forward.

 _Love her, hold her, be with her._

Your lungs, your brain, your heart, they all just want her. So badly, that for a moment you try to push yourself to knock on the door. It's the only thing; this little slab of wood is the only barrier separating you from her. But every time you try, every time you convince yourself you're ready, you hear her laughter. You hear her happy, beautiful laughter.

And you stop yourself.

Because of all those overpowering little wants thrumming inside your chest, the strongest desire—the want that keeps your knuckles perpetually one inch from the door—is just for Jane to be happy.

* * *

Ian is staring at his phone. Blankly. Resignedly. He knows what the silence means. He knows the truth it must signify. And yet he can't stop himself from staring. It's the 7th day. She should be calling…Maura should've called. But it's 11:23, and there hasn't been one ring. Not even the ding of a text message.

There's a small part of Ian, a tiny microscopic part, that is angry. That is infuriated at the thought that maybe Maura has picked Jane. That maybe Maura is with her right now. That maybe within the span of a week, his fiancé, the love of his life, has all but forgotten him. Maybe he overestimated her love for him; maybe he shouldn't have given her space. Maybe he should have kissed her so deeply that she forgot any other lips existed. Maybe he should have held her so closely that she forgot what it was to be held by anyone else. Maybe he should have stayed there and loved her with his presence because when he thinks about, his absence is what brought him here in the first place. He clenches his fists tightly before almost immediately relaxing them. He's trying not to let that microscopic anger grow; he's trying to stay reasonable and hopeful because that's really the only things he has working in his favor at the moment.

Reason and hope.

And until the 7 days are decisively over. Until Maura has come to a clear choice, Ian will wait.

He looks away from the phone for a moment, turning his eyes to the white, bumpy motel ceiling. He's praying silently, praying to every god in existence that he hasn't lost Maura. That he still has a chance.

And almost as if a miracle. Almost as if some invisible deity has heard his plea, his cellphone screen lights up.

A call. From Maura.

* * *

 _ **Don't forget to tell me about your feelings about an Epilogue-Sequel type thing, and also tell me your feelings on the ending. I know I'm going to get a lotta anger lmao, but you guys angry comments just let me know you care. So they're alright. This is a free zone. Anyways thanks for the ride guys, it's been a blast.**_


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